


The Girl Who Died and Lived and Died Again

by Stasis Kiss (Chiclet)



Category: City of Heroes
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2018-08-16 04:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 58
Words: 79,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8087431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiclet/pseuds/Stasis%20Kiss
Summary: Fiction for Stasis Kiss, my ice/energy tanker in City of Heroes, commemorating and occasionally sheepishly informing everybody of her frozen adventures.





	1. Backstory - The Girl Who Died

Most people are only born once.

A mother, a hospital, a man with cigars in his jacket pocket pacing in the waiting room. That was me too I guess, at least the hospital part. I suppose there had to be a woman involved but not a mother since that was the beginning and end of our family ties. Looking back I guess I can't blame her. Maybe she knew. If I'd been her I probably would have left me too and never looked back. The man in the waiting room? That's just made-for-television fantasy.

No, just the hospital, a mother I'll never know and a baby screaming at the injustice of it all. That was me. Life sucks, you know?

The second time though.. just like the first. Pain and fear and the need to breathe against the pressure even though you don't know how and there's only fear to guide the way.

I was sixteen, nearly to the hour according to the birth certificate although I don't pretend that I believe everything it tells me. I remember it was a field trip though - some sort of naval museum or something on the coast, intensely educational and boring as hell. A whole busload of kids and me trapped in the back pretending I belonged.

If you lived anywhere around me you'll know which day is my birthday. Afterwards they called it the storm of the century, even gave it a name. Emma. Pretty, huh? It took out roads, sections of rail line, wiped out power to nearly four thousand homes across two states and almost buried Salton Cross under a ton of mud when the east face of Hathaway collapsed under the rains. The kind of storm that chisels itself into rocks and grandfathers.

Then of course it was just rain and darkness, the rented bus crawling home hours late because the Old Narrows had been closed by the time we got there with some sort of accident. The blue and red lights on the wet tarmac had been hypnotic, and everybody craning to look although of course you couldn't see anything. It meant we had to detour to Angel Pass though, miles and miles away along with everybody else. All of us driving through the blinding rain just trying to get home.

I remember Dalton and his gang screwing around and the bus driver finally yelling at all of them to sit down. I remember the freaky feeling as we inched onto the bridge following the red lights ahead of us, with a huge hand of wind pushing on the side of the bus trying to tip us over. I even remember trying so hard not to be scared. You're not supposed to be scared you know, not at sixteen, not just because it's rainy and windy and dark. That's a kid scare.

I read later that people were blamed, even jailed. Construction quality had been undercut, the structural concrete had too much sand or something in it so that somebody else could line their pockets. Maybe it was true, I don't really know.

I just know that under the hazy, filtered light there was a sound like a dog in sudden pain, high and terrible and everything started to shake. I think the bus driver hit the brakes but I don't think that helped much. For a second I thought it was an earthquake, I swear that's what I thought. There was this noise like the earth was talking, so groan so deep that it nearly shook the teeth out of my head.

Then suddenly we were crazily, impossibly falling, the whole bus sliding sideways and clawing for purchase. I remember trying to scramble to the other side like that was going to save me or something but we were all doing it.

We were falling, a whole lifetime of falling and then the water smashed the windows, crumpled the metal body that was us, reached in with greedy fingers and remorselessly throttled all the soft bodies it could find.

I think that's the moment when I died.

There was lightning in the water, broken power lines like snakes in the frothing darkness. I could feel them crawling over me in a second shocking skin. Chunks of concrete the size of small houses were smashing into the water around us like a rain of gods.

The worst part was there was still air in the bus, trapped just like we were and the screaming wasn't even human anymore. I choked on death in cold gulps, struggling to live even a few precious seconds longer like it could make any difference at all. We all want to live, right? But there was only darkness as water wrapped its arms around me and the snakes sang a lullaby. Pulled out through a jagged maw of a mouth, stolen by a current.

Fear and lightning. Water and pain. Something woke, something broke. Funny, how things work out. Did she know, my derelict mother? Did she feel the winter in her womb, hear the singing of the snakes in her dreams? Yeah, I'd have left me for sure.

In the rushing madness I drank the waters, made them pure and strong and clean, wrapped them around my body like a coat. A column of ice to thrust down to the bedrock, power to roar up into the sky. Encased and enclosed I made my own coffin and lay down in it.

It was so very easy. A net, a silver web and a river made quiet; caught like a fish in my fingers, too weak to struggle free. I remember the rain on my face was as warm as sunshine, a tropical kiss with the silence spreading around me. Concentric, overlapping circles of my personal wasteland. And me in the middle of it - a dead girl caught in the eye of ice.

 

* * *

  

When I got out of the hospital, well, that was my second birth. A lot like the first actually - still no mother, no father but this time at least I understood what it really meant to scream about injustice.

Yeah, the third degree psychs, they tell me it wasn't my fault. That it was a natural disaster, unavoidable, and that people die when bridges collapse. You know, I even believe them. People die and life sucks. Don't have to tell me twice.

But you see, nobody else on that bridge survived. Not one of those people who fell into the water managed to find their way back to the surface, to escape back into their lives. I saw the pictures; I hunted down the newspapers and clipped the obituaries and I know the real truth.

The ice went for half a mile. Bank to bank, as far as fear could reach.

My fear. If anybody that hit the water was still alive, they couldn't have found their way back to breathing. I was the one that made sure of that.

I couldn't stay there of course. A local phenomenon, The Girl That Died and Lived Again. They took my picture for the local paper and I clipped that too and then they transferred me out of state. Out of sight, out of mind, so far away that all the parents in my hometown could pretend I never existed. In my dreams I can see them too, only their mouths aren't sealed with ice.

This is my first year at St. Joseph's. On weekends they let us go into downtown Paragon as long as one of the upperclassmen goes with us, I guess to make sure we don't do something we oughtn't. I share a dorm rooom with some other girls which is hard to deal with sometimes. I'm used to my privacy, you know? I listen in my classes and try to pretend I belong. And I've discovered that if the gelato at Mirabelle's is a little soft, well, I can fix that up pronto.

One of my teachers says I've got potential which is a stupid thing to say in my opinion. He wants me to learn to control my powers, and if that will get him off my case I guess I'm willing to give it a go. In four years, maybe three I can be out of here. Maybe I'll go back to the river although truthfully I think I'll go to the sea. I dream sometimes of that too, all that water to get lost in. I'll walk in until its over my head and holding me in its arms.

So much water that even a half a mile of fear won't save me.

I think I'd like that.


	2. Encounter In Broad Daylight

There was no help for it this time. Pride goes before a fall, as the matron and some overblown fiction used to say. Might as well just admit it and get it over with.

Three weeks in her new school and  _ still _ lost.

Stasis settled her crossed arms for the seventh time and continued to stare at the bewildering map hung on the wall like it was going to yield a new answer by force of will. She was pretty sure by this point that she'd figured out which part held her new science class, with the map painting it a bright painful yellow. The science class that was supposed to contain her cold, breathing body as of fifteen minutes ago. 

Now she just had to figure out where she actually was in relation to it. 

Without moving her head, she continued to scan for a teacher out of the corner of her eye. Not a chance of course. The map categorically refused to give up any more information than yellow equaled science and the only people she could see were the chattering bodies of other students who were, obviously, nowhere close to lost. Somehow the thought of actually asking someone didn't seem to be an option. 

The minutes ticked by as she looked at the crisply drawn diagram until her eyes crossed and the colors all blurred together. She would have to concede defeat eventually but she wasn't emotionally ready for that yet. Probably no science class today though. Maybe she could claim she'd been sick? Maybe a pressing emergency elsewhere.

Maybe she could say she'd been kidnapped by psychopathic ferrets and had had to distract them by feeding them pieces of her packed lunch while slowly backing for the cave entrance. Sandwiches only went so far after all, which would explain the delay.

Stasis snorted under her breath. Oh yeah, right. Not even Jonesy back in her home town would believe that one, and Jonesy would believe anything you told him. Not the brightest salmon in the run after that accident on his uncle's farm.

She stared moodily at the large bulletin board because the You Are Here just wasn't holding her attention anymore. The whole thing was covered in what looked about a hundred years of notices, only the building plan being left mostly clear of clutter. There were big notes, small notes, some creyocopied on crisp new paper, others barely more than scrawled postage stamps glued on by what looked like chewing gum. Who the heck was Forensic and why did he or she want to know if anybody had seen their Hordeling? Judging by the haste the question had been scrawled in, it was apparently of desperate concern. No date though... maybe the pet was still missing. Hopefully Hordelings were on the level of parakeets and not panthers. And wasn't that a comforting thought. 

Intrigued now, she leaned forward to study the rest, blowing the falling hair out of her eyes. Apparently somebody named Annie was... sorry,  _ had _ held a cookout in dorm room sixteen, esoterically billed as a Cultural Experiment in Pollination. Some wiseass had pencilled in the bottom that everybody had happily survived. 

At least three people were trying to unload the latest issue of Paragon Protectorate: Final Strike. The sales competition had gotten pretty acrimonious as the last person to post had nearly slaughtered the one before with pin holes. Somebody else was looking for back issues of Atlas Underground, no questions asked. No name on that one, just a direction to leave messages under the left arm of Velocity. That one made her blink for a moment until deciding that this Velocity had to be statue, not a person. She'd probably find out who that had been when she figured out where her School History class was. 

Depressing, depressing thought. Nobody had ever died in the hallways here, had they? Surely somebody would notice a skeleton leaning against a corkboard, taking up valuable notice room. 

The last thing to catch her eye was a garish piece of paper barely hanging onto the board by a grim wish. Artistically decorated with what might have been black crepe paper hearts and purple glitter, it gaily announced "Valentine's Mosh, Pocket D, Be There Or Be Socially Unacceptable, Nimrod!" No name on that one either but judging by the smudged thumbprints the author had probably glued themselves to the walls in the attempt and had no doubt required rescue. 

Stasis straightened and finally uncrossed her arms, stiff after holding them so long. She absently cracked the ridge of ice that had formed on her fingers. She was pretty sure she could find her way back to the courtyard and sight-target on that funny looking tree thing. From there she could at least get back to the English wing and then it was only a hurdle or three to the dubious retreat of her room. Temporary Domicile, actually. That was another appointment that she was supposed to get to this afternoon, which meant that there was probably another damned map in her future. Permanent assignment to a dorm, which meant roommates. She hadn't shared a room in... well, ever really, now that she thought about it. 

An odd expression slid across her face before finally settling on a lopsided grin. Well, hopefully whoever she landed with had packed for arctic weather this year. So far control had been mostly been wishful thinking and an entry in a dictionary. 

Well, no time like the present to get back into territory she knew. Stepping back, she turned left and promptly headbutted someone. 

"Hey!" 

"Owww!" 

Her teeth snapped together so quickly she saw stars. When her vision cleared she was glaring at him, he was glaring right back at her and they were just about toe to toe with each other. The first thing she realised was that the guy she'd just about run over was only barely taller than she was. The second thing was that he looked oddly hazy at the edges. The last thing, before he opened his mouth, was that he wasn't bad looking at all, even with only one cyclops eye. 

If you liked cyclop blondes of course. Not that everybody had to like blondes. Personally she liked her guys with black hair and blue eyes, and not with big dark cyclops sunglasses that pretty much screamed 'too cool for you, sweetheart'. She stepped back suddenly and his face resolved into the more normally proportioned configuration. 

However she had to reluctantly admit that what she could now see of the skin peeking out behind the open vest that he probably had at least kissing rights to the shades. Damn it. 

"Watch where you're going, fresh. I just about lost an eye there."

Okay. Maybe he wasn't so tall that she would have to put her neck in traction just to stare at his chin but he obviously  _ knew _ he was taller than appeared on the packaging. She should have gone with the first thought about the sunglasses. The apology died on her lips. She resurrected it reluctantly. 

"Sorry. My fault. I wasn't looking where I was going." 

"Yeah, it was." The guy adjusted his grip on the backpack slung over one shoulder which did interesting things with the shadows along his collarbone. "But I probably shouldn't have had my head down anyways. So let's call it even. Deal?" 

Stasis stared at him and then grinned. "Deal!" she said and promptly stuck out her hand.

The other guy looked surprised but then took it firmly. "You look really new, fresh. What's your name?" 

“Stasis.. Stasis Kiss." 

"Huh. Well, we'll work on that," he said cryptically. He looked over at the wall, making her turn to look as well. His hand slipped out of hers at the motion and while he flexed his fingers he didn't make any further comment. Goosebumps ran up the arm she could see but if he was going to ignore the reaction, she was happy to as well. "Lost, huh?" 

Okay, that was a little too much in the way of personal information. She opened her mouth to tell him so, only to hear herself say from far away, "Yeah. Really, really, really lost. Science is yellow?" 

Her voice trailed off weakly at the end. Okay, maybe the ice had gone to  _ her _ brain now, freezing something vital. But the grin that split the stranger's face was hard to resist. She found herself smiling back out of habit and watched as he lifted a finger to point to the map section that she just hadn't been able to figure out. 

She blinked. There was dark smoke trailing from his hands. You could barely see it head on, but when she turned to look away there were streamers of it trailing into the air like amorphous, winding snakes. Weird. 

She amended the thought in her head. Not weird. Probably normal around here. No doubt she'd get used to it eventually. 

"You got it. Science is really, really yellow. Look, Stasis. Some of the upperclassmen think its funny to mess with the maps. Mostly they just get creative with stuff but sometimes they can get a bit mean. Look, you see here?" She leaned in and looked closer. "This is where it says you are. But if you look closer you can see that the marker is not the same color as the legend it matches up with. So what you need to do is look around the map until you find the real marker that's probably been covered over with white correctall. Do you see it?" 

If there was one thing she understood, it was challenges. With her nose damned near touching the printed surface, she traced the colored schematic without blinking before finally giving a crow of delight. With one stabbing finger she pointed to the nearly hidden circle. "Right there! That's where I am." 

The grin was gone but she was pretty sure that was approval in those shades. "You got it. So which way is yellow?" 

She closed her eyes and traced it in her head this time.  _ That _ way was the tree,  _ that _ way was English so  _ this _ way would be the main courtyard and the Library which could only mean that  _ that _ direction was... 

"Science!" Opening her eyes she saw her finger pointing unerringly through the wall. But her saviour was nodding his head approvingly. 

"Science." 

"Thank you. God,  _ thank you. _ I was starting to think I was going to have to start carrying chains and rattling, just for the verisimilitude." 

"Not a problem, freshman." An expression that might have been amusement flowed across his face. "When I first got here I just about starved to death trying to find the cafeteria." He waited a heartbeat. "I've spent the rest of my time trying not to eat the food." 

"It can't be that bad.. can it?" 

He gave a shrug that could have meant anything from 'you'll find out' to 'i hope you never find out' and stepped back, easily avoiding any possible collisions with the flow of traffic as he merged with it. "Anyways. Later". 

He was four or five steps away before she thought to ask the obvious. She pitched the question up and over to his retreating form. "Hey! What's your name?" 

The muffled answer came back a heartbeat later, "Jaygo. Jaygo J...." 

Jaygo. Well, that was something. A name and... hot damn, a map. A working damned  _ map! _ Hotdiggity. 

Well, Science was definitely out of the question now but she bet she could find that nun's office about the dorm room question. Yes sir, she had a game plan now. 

Savoring the picture in her head for a blissful moment, she executed a swift pivot worthy of any drill master. She managed to avoid a potentially nasty incident by the swift expedient of freezing the stack of books falling from the arms of the overloaded bookworm student. The resulting frozen waterfall was quite pretty, she thought. 

"What did you do? My God, my  _ textbooks!! _ They're  _ ruined! _ " 


	3. The Perils of Pilferage

_...play with your pet 'fresh'... _

Stasis kept her head up and her strides even. She'd never be the smartest or the toughest or the strongest or the prettiest, but nobody messed with confidence. Confidence was knowing where you were and where you wanted to go. Confidence was taking care of the things that were important. Confidence was making sure that no matter how crowded it got, she didn't step onto the grass. 

She kept her grip on the books loose, resisting the urge to clutch them defensively across her chest. That wouldn't inspire anybody to give her space. It was bad enough that she could see vapour rising in a haze as she walked, tiny ice bells pealing as they formed and faded.  _ Breathe, Tara, breathe. _ She switched the heavy books to her other arm, tucking the nervous pencil behind her ear. Her boots hit the paved walkway with solid, deceptive steadiness.  _ Nobody will even care if you look like you know what you're doing. _

The best part about confidence was that even if you didn't have it, it was entirely possible to fake it. 

Part of the problem at the moment was that she was trying to swim upstream. It seemed like the entire school population was intent on starting their weekend Right Now and all of them at close to top decibel. She skirted a square of arguing girls taking up an entire intersection, all of them in their school plaid and all of them looking like refugee models from the St. Joseph recruitment posters. She could feel her shoulders trying to hunch as one particularly loud blonde tossed her mane over one perfect shoulder and laid the law down about what  _ they _ were going to be wearing that night to the club. It might have been the girl that had kept getting her name wrong but she didn't make eye contact to be sure, sidling silently past without notice. 

_ Pet fresh. _

Jaygo... Jaygo had noticed. The triangle point of the liberated map stuck out like an accusation from under the fly leaf of her Comparative Histories book. Jaygo had not only noticed but he'd made sure she knew he'd noticed. He'd made a point of talking to her in front of all his friends, hadn't he? 

Stasis shook her head. It didn't mean anything. It was more than obvious she was just the flavor of the week. That last comment by his agitated friend had pretty much spelled it out in skywriting. Had seen her out of the classroom windows, had he? 

Ruffled blonde Jaygo with the kilowatt smile obviously played the field, and probably not only knew all the cute cheerleaders disappearing behind her he'd probably dated them all. Concurrently. So he'd been friendly, so what? Maybe he just needed something in platinum to complete the set. 

Head down again without thinking about it, she had about a half a second of warning before her nose impacted on the solid object that appeared like magic in front of her. Pulling back, she looked up into the grinning face of another upperclassman - this one however didn't make her feel like doing anything but grinning back. 

"Hey, Detective!" 

"Stasis! You okay? Didn't see you there." 

But the smirk on his face was just a little too angelic. Stasis examined the last few moments of introspection on high definition rewind and then looked up in accusation. They were creating a traffic muddle but for the moment she didn't care. 

"You...  _ flew _ into me!" 

Detective held up his hands and stepped back, laughing. "You're imagining things. Fly into you? Why would I do that?”

Half a dozen likely excuses sprang to the tip of her tongue, ranging from 'you thought it would be funny', to 'you were showing off' to 'you like scaring girls'. She squashed all of them and settled for wrinkling her nose. 

"No comment. What's up?" 

Detective being Detective, he actually looked up to find out. "Sky, mostly. Rain later, I think. It's pretty slick up near the free-for-all, real downdraft friction. Hey, you wanna go to the club with me tonight?" 

Slick? Free-for-all? She'd only known Detective for just over a week so she knew her translation back to standard English was suspect at best, but that was a little obscure even for him. Friction? Then the rest of the sentence kicked in and she'd have held up her hands in protest if she could. Stasis settled instead for a lukewarm glare. 

"I went once. I spend the entire time trying not to feel like somebody's dinner." A little traitor voice in her head pointed out that a certain cocksure scrapper had asked pretty much the same thing not fifteen minutes before. It was like comparing apples to... armored tanks. Detective wouldn't know guile if it walked up and chewed his leg off. 

"Oh c'mon Stas, it'll be fun! We'll have a good time again.”

Okay. So maybe she'd been distracted by other stuff. Maybe trying to decipher a pair of green eyes had dulled her sense of survival. But when Detective mentioned 'fun' and 'good time' in the same sentence... Stasis woke up in a hurry and the paint by numbers picture assembling in her head wasn't pretty. 

"You're going to see that barely-clad wanna-be vampire chick and the tattooed wonder, aren't you?" 

Detective looked down at her, his lashes dark against his pale skin. The light in his eyes wasn't exactly apple pie. "Mistress? No. Well... maybe. She  _ could _ be there, I guess. It's a free world, last I looked - unless you're in the Zig. It's probably hard to party in the Zig."

"Detective!" Stasis looked around and broke her personal rule; grabbing him by the arm she dragged him onto the grass and shook him once, hard. "She's bad news! She's the baddest news I've ever seen pretending to be a pair of high heels and fishnet. She probably garottes her hairdressers for messing up so bad. You can't  _ possibly _ be thinking of hooking up with that barracuda again." 

"So? You coming?" 

Stasis opened her mouth.. and closed it again. Detective might be three baby steps and a tailwind from graduation, might spend most of his remaining class time zooming around seeing how fast he could do a barrel roll around the spire on the auditorium, might spend the rest of it jockeying as one of the strongest kids in the school... but that didn't negate the instant understanding that the guy desperately needed a keeper. 

Her first and only experience in the Pocket she'd spent an uncomfortable hour trying not to watch the guy drown in sticky, neo-vampire quicksand. Fending off the party animals intent on dancing and dealing with the tattooed wonder hadn't helped either. By the time she'd left she'd had a tension headache the size of... well, Detective's ego. 

"Great! Meet you there!" She couldn't even protest that she hadn't said a damned thing because he was six feet above her head. She blinked. "Bring money, I'm flat busted again. And wear something nice!" Then the entire view she had of him was the bottom of his shoes, dwindling away. 

"Wear something... this is the only thing I own!" Too late, he was already gone. "Damn it. Damn it, you nutcase!" Throwing dignity to the winds she took off for the dorms, cutting across the grass in bounding leaps. She'd lose the books there and grab a couple of pick-me-up pills. Maybe you couldn't fight in the Pocket, but she still had to get there on her own two feet. 

Necessity might be the mother of invention, but haste is the father of wrong turns. Taking a short cut between what she thought was the north wall of the Library and the shop classes, she hung a left, a right and two more lefts in quick order.. and found a part of the campus she'd so far failed to get lost in before. 

"Atlas  _ save _ me." 

Stasis blew the hair out of her eyes in serious annoyance and did a survey. Nope, nothing familiar in the slightest. There was a smaller building down a slope that showed police tape over the door, a piecemeal attempt at what might have once been a formal garden next to it, half a retaining wall and the broad backsides of two buildings that didn't seem particularly noteworthy and certainly didn't seem to be the dorms she was trying for. 

A flutter of panic settled in her stomach but suddenly she remembered.. the map! Two shakes and she'd be turned back around again and she'd catch Detective before he got himself nibbled on again. Maybe she'd feed him to the cheerleaders as payback - they seemed the piranha type, but at least they were St. Joseph piranha. Keep it in the family. 

The books went on the ground in a haphazard pile and the map opened to reveal its glorious secrets. She was so engrossed in her contemplation, orienting the paper in likely configurations that she failed to register the ominous shadow that appeared over her shoulder. 

"And what is this?" 

"Whassuh?" Stasis looked up and found herself staring in the eyes the color of dirty mud. "Sister.. Sister Moltar!" 

"Yes." The nun's look was anything but jovial, belying the myth of dedicating one's life to others. "That is my name and I'm glad you know it. What is that in your hands?" 

Stasis looked down and blanched. Oh no. Oh  _ no. Jaygo, you bastard. _ She thrust the incriminating evidence behind her back, knowing it was already too late. 

"Um... nothing? Laundry list?" 

"Nothing. A nothing that looks a lot like school property. A nothing that looks a lot like the school property that was vandalised not two days ago and missing until just now, when here I find it in your hands." 

There was no pick-me-up pill in the world that could fend off the righteous waves of indigation near pouring off the Sister's rigid form. 

"To the office...  _ march! _ "


	4. Skyway

Skyway. 

It's always cold here. There is no day, no light, no warmth in this forever and always twilight. Steel over concrete over echoes, everything whispers to itself of glory days long past. The buildings struggle to remember fragments of stories to tell the children, not minding that they remember only fractures. 

A giant must have built this place; an entire race of monsters she thinks. She can only imagine talons placing the stepping stones as large as houses over the cisterns, sees in her mind's eye the macabre spiders that spun the highways across the skies in webs. No human could have conceived this, loved this, built this. There is frantic motion but no life. Mindless purpose without any aim, save restlessness. 

Dirty, noisy, filthy, ugly. 

Angry. 

She has taken the lecture, the disapproval, the meticulous stain carved onto a white sheet of paper. She has never lied. She has never stolen. Yet now she has committed the first, accused and judged of the second. She feels as if these things are covering her, visible in the half light of this terrible place. 

A lie of omission is still a lie; she said nothing while the censure was measured out in full and bitter dose. She is not a thief nor a vandal yet she let them believe it, permitted it to be written without outward protest although the room was chill with words unsaid. The meted punishment was as nothing to that inward betrayal. 

The cartographer said nothing and that makes her feel worse. A map of St. Joseph's, complete and unabridged has been ordered and she will return in three days to convey it to the sharp hand of the Sister. Returning through the dusk resentments she tries to think of nothing at all lest she choke on it. 

Who is to say why things fall out as they do? In her inattention she makes a mistake, an beginner's error. She misjudges the leap to the subway platform, grey on grey on dark and falls. It is a shock but not fatal, a long drop to a ground she hadn't known was there. The train she has missed rumbles over her head, shaking both teeth and nerves. 

If the Above is twilight apathy, here in the Below there is only stygian malice. There are eyes here and they find her, cover her, revel in the whiteness of her body.  _ Honey. Baby. Sugar. _ She discovers a different kind of heat as they crowd around.  _ Come and play. Dance. Give us a kiss. _ So many, so tall they seem like a shade of those long ago giants. Lost and male and so terribly angry. 

She is angry. 

Warmth then as the air turns arctic and pain blooms in a red, untouchable flower. They laugh even as the first one falls and then it's just them and her and she is  _ not _ a thief,  _ not _ anybody's sugar, anybody's baby,  _ not _ a damned liar for a boy who smiled and didn't tease at her confusion, not anybody's damned pet  _ fresh _ . 

There is blood in her mouth by the time it's over, heart shot. Breath is an outpouring of white against all this gray. She feels no better which is an atonement of a sort. 

A sound murmurs in her ear; unexpected, unlooked for.  _ Come meet me. See me. Be with me. _ She feels as if her bones are ice, white and blind. His voice whispers of sunlight.

Up, then, out of the mistaken darkness, rising into the Above where he waits impatiently at the train. He is changed and different and the same. His hair is dark now, but his eyes see no shadows. He smiles to see her.

A giant's playground, is Skyway. Its echoes never quiet. The buildings drowse and wait for the world to find them again. Dirty, noisy, filthy, ugly. 

Happy.


	5. Quad Five: Meanwhile, Back At The Ranch

"Up. Up! Get up, lazybones! We've got class in an half hour." 

Wha? Half hour? Class? Lycia let that percolate into her clogged synapses even as she snuggled farther down into the blankets, pulling the pillow over her head. Half an hour. That was  _ plenty _ of time. Bucketloads. She had at least ten more minutes before she even had to think about moving; fifteen if she decided to skip the hair combing stage. 

"I said, wake  _ up! _ " 

"Hey!" 

The pillow was gone and only a desperate grab and tuck saved the blankets. Lycia glared at the other girl. 

"Kris, I'm sleeping! Up late. Tired." That was enough explanation for anybody, she figured.

"You still have class. In twenty seven minutes. You don't want to be late again, do you?" 

"Yes." That had to be the silliest question ever asked in the history of any school anywhere. 

"Here. This will make you feel better." A mug of some dark murky liquid was thrust under Lycia's nose. It didn't take an eyelash of time for the deep, rich smell to penetrate right to the back of her salivary glands. 

"Guh..." Thankfully Kris knew the morning ritual. Even as Lycia lunged, it was being maneuvered into her greedy fingers. She barely registered that the blankets were being whisked away as she inhaled half of the offering immediately. By the Seven, that was  _ wonderful _ . Before she knew it, she was sitting up cross-legged in bed and awake. 

Kris was, of course, immaculately dressed already even after having been up half the night before burning the midnight oil with her roommate. Her tie was knotted, her pleats were in perfect order, even her socks had the regulation number of creases. The only thing missing was the dark blazer, standing ready on the back of her study chair. In contrast Lycia was in her pyjamas which consisted of a pair of cotton pants and an old tshirt with the barely readable slogan "In Dog Years, I'm Dead", hair in six different directions. 

Lycia crossed her legs and settled down, sipping her coffee in moderate gulps. Well, awake. Vertical, sort of. Guess it was time to get up. Without thinking she put her bare feet on the floor. 

The yelp was heartfelt. "Cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold,  _ cold! _ " 

"I know. I've got the heat cranked and everything but it's still barely sixty in here." 

"I thought you said you were going to have them fix it." She hopped to where she'd thrown her uniform the night before, trying to contact the frigid floorboards as little as possible. Lycia was hazy on who was 'them' or what needed actual 'fixing' but she was confident that Kris was on top of it. Although perhaps this time her confidence in her smart roommate was mistaken. 

"Maintenance said they'd look into it as soon as they could. I guess they've been busy. Get dressed, it'll help." 

"I guess they just hate us. It's like a ghost lives here or something. Brrrrrr." The bottom of the mug was fast approaching, a fact that Lycia tried to ignore as much as possible. With the ease of long practise, Lycia dressed while drinking. 

"There are no such things as ghosts," was the automatic reply. 

"Oh yeah?" A shadow passed over the pyjama clad girl's face, but it was so quick that it barely registered. "Then why's it always just this side of the north pole, huh? Huh?"

“No idea." 

Lycia gave a crow of triumph. "Hah! So you don't know everything!" Figuring it would be easier and warmer to just keep the tshirt on, Lycia grabbed her jacket off the floor and wiggled into it. Nobody would be able to tell underneath that she wasn't wearing the required shirt. Really, it wouldn't be that obvious. Where was her tie? She found it wedged under one chair leg. 

Kris gave her a look. "Never said I did." 

"Oh yeah? What about that report you wrote about that hydroencephalo.. water stuff? That wasn't a report, that was a bible! With commentary! And that 'What I Did Last Summer' thing? That was most of our graduating year biology course! I swear, you're just like some machine or something." 

It took a minute but when Kris didn't reply back, Lycia looked over. Her friend had turned her back and had hunched her shoulders. Oh.  _ Oh. _

"Kris, I'm .. I'm sorry! I didn't  _ mean _ it! You know I'm just jealous that you're such a smart cookie." Lycia put the empty mug down and rushed over to put a tentative hand on the other girl's shoulder. She always ran away at the mouth! Kris was really sensitive and she'd just said a really terrible thing. Of  _ course _ Kris wasn't a machine! She was a dear friend! "I wish I was good at school, like you." That wasn't too bad as apologies went. Lycia bit her lip and hoped that Kris wasn't crying. 

"A cookie, huh?" There was something odd about Kris' voice. She  _ was _ crying. Lycia felt about six inches tall. "Well.. eat  _ this! _ " 

A second later, Lycia had feather pillow in her face. She shrieked. "No fair! I wasn't looking!" 

"Not my problem!" 

Lycia dove for Kris' bed, for the other pillow and then it was full scale war. In a twinkling there were feathers everywhere in a snowstorm as the school issue shredded under the onslaught. Laughing too hard to see, Lycia tripped on the blankets Kris had pulled off the bed and sprawled in a heap. Kris leaped to the advantage, trying to wrap her up before she could scramble away. 

"Excuse me." 

"You're gonna look like a chicken by the time I'm done with you!" Lycia sang, trying to stuff more feathers down her friend's shirt between giggles. 

"You first!" Kris dove in for the kill, wiggling her fingers under Lycia's shirt and starting to tickle mercilessly. Lycia howled and thumped her heels, trying to escape. 

"No fair! No fair!" 

" _ Excuse me. _ " 

Kris and Lycia looked up. There was a girl in the door, looking vaguely uncomfortable with a duffel bag over her shoulder. The newcomer cleared her throat again, obviously not for not the first time in the last few minutes. 

"Is this a bad time?" 

Kris and Lycia both stared up at the stranger with identical expressions. A stray feather drifted onto Kris' pert nose, causing her to sneeze. That broke the tableau and both roommates scrambled up, struggling to tug clothing back into more or less approximate position. Embarrassment seemed to be running at an all time high, with the new girl looking at everything but them. 

"Um. No, no. Uh, can we, you know, help you? Or something?" If Kris' voice squeaked on the last syllable, Lycia wasn't going to complain. 

"Can you tell me if this is quad five?" She was taller than the two squabbling friends, with pale hair and paler eyes. She wasn't large but she seemed to fill the doorway at the moment. Could have just been the circumstances. 

"Yes. This is quad five." 

"Well. Hello, then. My name is Stasis.. Stasis Kiss. I've been assigned to this room." Swinging the duffel to her other shoulder she advanced into the room, and shook hands gravely with the pair. Her fingers were cool to the touch. "Pleased to meet you. Is this how you usually wake up in the mornings? If so, how many pillows do you recommend I buy to be competitive?" 

Lycia blinked.. and then clapped her hands and laughed. "Three! At least!" 

Stasis inclined her head. "Goose or down?" 

"Oh, down for sure! Harder to clean up; drives Kris crazy! Hello, I'm Lycia. This is Kris. Welcome to quad five!" 

Stasis grinned and ducked her head. "Glad to be here. I think. Which bed is mine, please?" 

Lycia waved a vague hand over her shoulder. "Either one next to the window. Nobody's taken those yet, but I'm telling you, they're really, really cold! You're going to need to have like, sixteen blankets or something to sleep there. Maybe even a dog." 

"Thanks, but I don't think that will be a problem."

"Hey. I've seen you before." Kris drew her brows together and studied the intruder. "You've been on campus for a few weeks. How come you're just getting a dorm now?" 

Stasis blinked. "Well .. um. Huh. It's a long story?"

"Well, you can summarise then." 

With her pale skin, you would have thought that a blush would be more than apparent but all she did was stare at the ceiling for a long moment, a hand creeping up to rub the back of her neck. "Well, it's sort of.. you see, I had the appointment to go and see someone about being assigned.. and I sort of, well .. couldn't seem to find it."

"Couldn't.. find it?" 

"I was .. well, uh. Lost. For awhile. I have a map now. Well, actually I  _ had _ a map. I've uh .. well, lost that too. But I think I've got it figured out now!" The voice was confident enough. Personally, Lycia had used that tone herself too many times to believe it. 

"But.. if you've only just gotten your dorm assignment, where've you been sleeping all this time?" Kris was obviously on a quest for information here. The new girl blew the hair out of her eyes and suddenly looked sheepish. 

"Uh. On the roof. Actually, right above this room to be exact." 

"Above us." 

"Yeah. Did I mention that cold isn't a problem?" 

Lycia might not have known her metatarsals from her marsupials but she put it together faster than Kris did - street smarts out-trumping book learning. "You're.. you're the one making our room so cold!" She charged forward and put a hand on Stasis' arm before the other could move back. "I  _ knew _ it. You're some sort of ice queen!" 

A sound swelled outside the window, deep and rich. It took a moment but then Kris whirled around and looked at the clock. The groan that rose from her rivalled the sound of the bell. 

"Forget about that... we're  _ late _ !"


	6. Detention

_ What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. _

Right. Whoever came up with that pithy gem probably never went to school. Or at the very least, never had detention. It had to have been a guy though - only a guy could come up with something like that. Who had it been anyways? Nietzsche? Churchill? 

Cookie Monster? 

She'd had detention precisely once before in a previous school, three or four back and hadn't enjoyed it then either. With a feeling of impending doom she tugged her new plaid skirt down, convinced the thing was showing more than it ought to. The tie was half choking her but she wasn't going to get in trouble for taking it off, no way. She could put up with being a little lightheaded. On the bright side, if she passed out from blood constriction maybe the Powers That Be would take pity and give her a swanky kerchief instead. Assuming they didn't save the effort and have her remains cremated. 

She had to admit though - the socks were just great. 

Stasis checked the room number engraved on the frosted glass in front of her, comparing it to the neat assignment written out for her.  _ A107 - DETENTION: BRING ASSIGNED SCHOOLWORK _ . For once she'd managed to be in the right place and nearly at the right time too. She'd only gotten turned around twice which had to be some kind of record so far. 

She blew the hair out of her eyes one more time for good luck and lifted her chin in unconscious, defiant habit. It was only detention. It was probably good for her; character building or something. No doubt Kris would expound on the topic when she got back to the dorm, complete with reference books on the subject and the relevant psychological passages to take note of. She'd only been in quad five for less than a week but some things had established themselves pretty quickly. 

Well, at least Kris was doing her version of social. After the Easy Bake incident Lycia wasn't exactly talking to her. But in her defense, how was she to know a toy oven could cause so much damage? She'd just been trying to make something nice to eat! Something to share with everybody. So the burnt smell was taking a while to dissipate - that couldn't reasonably be blamed on her, could it? Smells just did that. 

At least it hadn't been burnt fish. 

Lycia was taking it pretty hard though. As proof of the fact that she was in the dog house, the other girl hadn't even offered to share this morning's pot of java with her equally addicted friend. 

That meant she'd had to wait until Lycia had zombied herself out the door before scrambling for the dregs. That in turn had made her late, which had made her forget her half finished homework in its crumpled pile when she'd thrown it against the wall in disgust the night before and that in turn had caused her to have no respectful answer ready when the Sister had asked where it was. 

Not her fault. If Lycia had just given her a single cup of coffee, just one lousy teacup worth she wouldn't have said the first thing off the top of her head. Nor followed it up with a straight faced justification. 

So here she was, at detention. Staring at the door. Late. 

Stalling. 

Anxiety made recent uneasy control a little more precarious. She took a deep breath and tried to keep the ice from actually taking her over. It just didn't look as good in plaid. 

Opening the door wasn't as hard at it first appeared. For one thing it was just a door and opened quite easily. She even managed to get a few reasonably firm steps into the room, opening her mouth to apologize for her tardiness. 

That was the plan anyways. It lasted about four seconds before she and it came to a crashing, uncertain halt. 

Out of the corner of her eye a nun in habit was turning to look. A few bodies were strewn here and there throughout the classroom. The afternoon sun even managed to streak through the somewhat dirty windows. 

Just what was  _ he _ doing here? This was  _ her _ detention. 

Silly, stupid question. Silly, stupid, heart stopping question. 

Jaygo. 

He was stretched out at one desk, looking nearly asleep. His hair was lit in a blonde halo, bright enough to cut at the eyes which might explain the empty space around him. 

There was a thin volume falling out of one hand, probably his concession to the required schoolwork. He sat up when she walked in and those green eyes irised open and did funny things to her breathing. The look on his face was half surprise, half something else. 

Couldn't have helped it; not even if she'd known it was coming, not even if her life had depended on it. 

She smiled. A traitor smile that spread over everything in a nova flash. It had been days. So  _ good _ to see him. And damn it... he saw it. Saw it and smiled back. 

Oh, that was so not right. Jaygo Jones did not need any more encouragement. Already much much too comfortable around her, making her feel much much too comfortable around him. The surprised smile on his face was already descending into smirk. 

She closed it down, falling back desperately on some of the tanker training she'd been getting with the formidable and humorless Mr. Asumio. It got the expression off her face but in the story of her life the damage was already done. Stasis kept the groan under her breath and turned to the Sister at the front of the class and offered a half bow. 

"I'm sorry I'm late." Off the top of her head that wasn't too bad at all. Certainly better than this morning's effort. 

"You would be Stasis Kiss, I take it?" The wimple clad woman checked out a piece of paper on her desk briefly. "Do you prefer your street name or your birth name?" 

"Uh." Her cognitive functioning was operating at the speed of treacle. "Street.. street name, please. If you don't mind." Jaygo knew her name, she remembered suddenly. That had also seemed a good idea at the time. 

"We strive to make all our students comfortable. Now please take a seat, Stasis. You're ten minutes late. You will remain your full hour of detention plus that additional for your delay." 

"Okay. Uh. Thank you, Sister." 

Turning around was not the most difficult thing she'd ever had to do but it certainly took honorable mention. Not meeting anybody's eyes, particularly a certain pair of laughing ones, she walked to the back of the class and took a blind seat. Sitting in front of him would have been sheer torture, imagining him staring at the back of her hot neck. At least from here he couldn't see her and she could stare at the back of  _ his _ head. See how he liked that! 

She'd take any advantage she could get. She'd won battles on slivers of endurance before.

A guy she'd never seen before leaned over and well... leered was a good description. At least his bushy monobrow wiggled at her and the expression was pretty easy to decipher. He was built like a brick wall which probably explained why he thought this was a good idea. She didn't equate size with stupidity but Moron's Law said there was always one in every school. 

This at least she knew how to take care of. Leaning in his direction, she smiled - and blew him a kiss. Just a small one. 

"Biff? Is there a problem?" 

Biff? That pretty much confirmed her instant assessment. Who named their kid Biff? That was like, straight out of some redneck manual. Sadly the boy was too busy trying to scrub feeling back into his face to answer right away. 

For a second she thought she might have overdone it but eventually he did manage to mumble something. While the Sister frowned she did eventually turn her attention away and Stasis breathed a sigh of relief. Oddly, Biff didn't look at her again. 

Fumbling with her books took up a decent five minutes. Managed to waste at least three more in the finding, losing, finding and then sharpening the pencil. Then she was stuck staring at the blank piece of paper in front of her with no inspiration. What was she supposed to be working on again? She took a quick look at the textbook cover.  _ Plane Geometry _ . 

Great. Math. Just another four word which about summed up her feelings on the whole subject. 

The time ticked down slowly. Then - how it happened she wasn't sure. For one thing, she was pretty positive she hadn't been daydreaming or anything. Too keyed up trying not to notice a certain lean bulk four desks ahead of her, pretending that she knew the difference between an exterior and an adjacent angle. Which didn't really explain how the neatly folded square of paper made it onto her open books like a magic jumping frog. 

She looked around guiltily but nobody seemed to have noticed. She glared suspicously but Jaygo had gone back to staring at the ceiling again, all she could see was the top of his head. She wasn't sure but she thought maybe she could even hear him snoring. Nobody else was even remotely close enough to have leaned over though and she was pretty sure that her formerly amorous suitor would rather kiss a tiger than get within touching distance. So how had the note gotten there? 

Wrinkling her nose, she teased the creased edges open. It was full of printed text - a page torn from a book. Flowery stanzas greeted her surprised eyes but it was the lazy handwriting scrawled into the margin that riveted her attention. She'd never seen it before but there was no doubt who had written her the note. 

_ Dance coming up. Wanna go? _

The hot feeling that ripped down her spine, that pooled like honey in the pit of her belly was something she'd never admit to.  _ Never. _ For one thing she didn't  _ feel _ that way about Jaygo Jones, Mr. Fan Club Himself. Not her. Not for him. She was level headed, straight forward, about as interesting as that stuff they served in the cafeteria on Thursdays. She got the job done and stayed out of the way. 

She didn't even  _ like _ blondes. 

Stasis swallowed the inexplicable panic. 

Calm, cool reasoning would save the day. She didn't like crowds. She'd never been to a dance before in her life, wouldn't even know what to do at one. She was all left feet for one thing. She'd get lost trying to find the silly thing! 

_ Wanna go? _

The question just sat there and stared at her with a smug expression.

She flipped the piece of paper over and with neat strokes penciled in her terse reply around stanza sixteen. Since she wasn't ninja anything, she just waited until it looked like the warden at the front of the classroom was busy scratching her ankle and lobbed it at Jaygo's head. It bounced nicely but he caught it before it hit the floor, proving he wasn't as asleep as he'd been pretending. The Sister didn't seem to notice that either. 

Oddly, there was tension in his shoulders as he slowly opened the crumpled ball of paper. What was he doing? He was just messing with her head, that's all. 

Stasis firmed her resolved and look back down at the stupid page of figures that would probably never make coherent sense.

Maybe Kris could explain it. Kris was very good at explaining things to her friends. 


	7. Interlude

At the top of a thin building, a million miles above Terra Volta, she sat and spoke poetry to the empty air. Far below the world turned gold, turned green, turned dark as the moon rose and the words followed its ascent, from memory and from the heart.

Not empty though, the air, although the moon didn't care in its eternal motion. Somewhere below he listened and somewhere below he saw the same darkness she did. It was enough then, for the moment. Enough then, for now.


	8. Action, Not Words - No, Wait

"Hey, Lish." 

"Mmmmm?" The vague affirmative issued from what Stasis could see of her roommate, which at this moment consisted of a pair of rather dirty socks and half a knee. Lycia had finally bowed to the inevitable and had burrowed under the covers to do her homework. Stasis winced internally and tried again to raise the ambient temperature. Really, she had more control than this. 

Kind of. When she wasn't distracted. And doodling curvy things on her homework that honestly weren't hearts. 

Curled up against the wall at the head of her bed, her homework was spread everywhere and none of it done. She just kept staring out the window, and thinking. 

"When's Kris coming back?" 

Jaygo had found her again between classes. It was just uncanny how he would just show up, sometimes saying something, and sometimes just watching her with a smirk on his face. It was unsettling. Yes, that was a good word. Unsettling. 

Lycia poked her nose out of the blankets, a smudge of mascara marring one perfect cheekbone. She looked a little like a punk groundhog, checking for spring. "I'm pretty sure it's the nineteenth. Why?" 

"I miss her." 

So, it was melancholy. She was  _ feeling _ melancholy. Their red haired third had only been gone a few days and the silence on the other side of the room was already unbearable. She wasn't the noise maker that Lish was, but still, she filled her corner with.. well, Kris. 

Stasis looked down at the mess on  _ her _ side of the room and sighed. Kris' side was in, of course, in perfect order. With one booted foot, she nudged the box of Freakshow armor into a tighter wedge under the bed. She'd already worn it twice today. Lycia's comments were getting pretty pointed. 

"C'mon, Stasi! She'll be back soon! I'm sure she misses us too." 

"I'm sure she does. Hey! How about we write a letter!" 

"A what?!" 

Stasis had to laugh at the expression on the perkier third of quad five's face. 

"You know, a letter. With words and things. Kris likes words in case you hadn't noticed." 

At that, the whole of Lycia erupted from the blankets, revealing a shocking glimpse of pale thigh and rumpled plaid. "Yes! Let's write a letter! That's a great idea!" Homework instantly forgotten, their local Tasmanian devil was already scrambling for something to write on and with. "What should we say?"

Jaygo had said  _ I have a surprise for you. _ Just that and nothing more but the look in his eyes had held her riveted in the middle of the hall, like one of Arrow's specials. There had been something like laughter and something like heat on his face and then he was gone again, brushing past her without touching to disappear into the crowd. She'd felt.. panicked. Unsettled. Yes, a very good word indeed. 

"Okay!  _ Dear Kris _ ... Dear Kris what? Oh, I know!  _ Dear Kris, WE MISS YOU! _ How many exclamation points should I use?" 

Stasis laughed and finally uncurled herself. Kris was much more important than Jaygo would ever be. He was just messing with her head, as always. She stretched until her boots dangled off the end of the bed, ignoring the crunch of the paperwork. She locked her fingers behind her neck and contemplated the ceiling. 

"At least three. Then she'll know we really mean it." 

"Okay! Three, big. Exclamation. Points. Now what?"

"How about,  _ Did you buy our presents yet? _ " 

"Stasi!" A pillow launched itself to land on her face. "We can't say that. We'll look greedy."

The tanker turned her head and looked out from underneath the warm softness. It even smelled like Lycia, sweet and wild. "Well, I don't know about you but I AM greedy. But you're right, let's not mention the presents right away. We'll have to work up to it." 

___ 

By the end of the hour, the roommates had finally squabbled their way to a somewhat smudgy letter. After a heated argument and the application of lipstick to a protesting Stasis, they both kissed it to add to the personalized value. 

Licked it, stamped it, sent it. Walking back from the mailbox, Lycia was nearly skipping to keep up to the longer strides of her friend. 

"Hey, Stasi." 

"Mmmmm?" 

"You do realise that by the time the letter gets there, Kris will be back, right?" 

Lycia was three steps farther down the walk before she realized Stasis had stopped moving. Looking back gave her a vision of her friend staring at her with rueful laughter. 

"Lish! Why didn't you mention that not-important detail  _ earlier _ ?" 

The smaller girl grinned back and punched one fist into the air. "Because! Kris likes words, remember? C'mon! Race you to the dorm!" 

She was seven steps away when she heard the yelp... and the chase was on. 


	9. Mulligans 01

The best thing about Striga, she decided, was the sound of the waves. 

Not the hard splash she made in her long easy leaps of course, but the softer murmur where it lapped against the docks, ate away at the pylons and ships. So much about Striga was less than beautiful but the sea was enough for her to love the place. The relentless susurration always made her feel better, calmed the things inside that sometimes got out of control. 

Of course, if that failed there was always the Bog and a fast end to any pain at all. 

The thump of her boots on the warehouse jetty felt good with a familiar shock up her spine. The dock workers kept their distance with the overseers eyeing her nervously. She wasn't there to cause trouble though, although they didn't know that. They'd probably watched the flash of her across the sky and gotten out of the way. 

Not so long ago she would have had a fight on her hands, being here. Now she ran up the gangway plank unmolested, her strides eating the ascent. Things changed. Her security level was just the official recognition of it. 

_ Mulligans _ was just around the corner from the main docks. She still wasn't quite sure how she'd gotten roped into this, but decided to blame it on Kris. Her quadmate had been the one to pipe up in class about how nobody knew where the hot spots were. The next thing she'd known she'd been assigned to review a fish 'n chip shop for her part of the class project to be submitted for the next printing of the school newspaper. Obviously she'd chosen the wrong moment to close her eyes for a little catnap which was pretty typical of her luck so far. 

Well, it could have been worse. She really did like seafood. The three tentacles they'd carved out of that mutant octopus in Independence just hadn't lasted long enough in her opinion. Fried sucker was the best! Maybe this  _ Mulligans _ place served it as well, although Independence was on the other side of the peninsula. 

As she pushed the door open, she wondered if handing in her assignment on an official napkin would earn her authenticity points. She might do it just to make Kris giggle. 

It was sort of dark inside although that could have just been the light dazzle in her eyes. It did brighten up after a few moments but not all that much. A surreptitious look around confirmed that it was probably the grime on the windows, which lead to the question of whether anybody had ever bothered to clean them. Although perhaps the view of the Council squads running by every twenty minutes like clockwork might have had something to do with it, it was hard to say. Or maybe the owner just didn't all that much of soap and water. 

The place itself looked okay; the red checkerboard tablecloths were cheery enough and a minorly talented artist had attempted a mural of sea creatures on one wall. A few people were scattered here and there, mostly dockworkers by the clothing. A waitress was heading towards her, a tired expression on her face. 

"Hey.. Stasis!" 

Her name and a waving arm caught her attention. It took a second but memory resolved itself into a name and a fantastic cologne.

"Hey, Electron." The invitation was obvious and she took it with only the pretence of reluctance. If she died trying to eat whatever passed for food in here, hopefully Electron could do the whammy and get her back on her feet again to press charges. She slid into the opposing seat, hoping that the slight stickiness didn't mean she'd have to fumigate herself later. "How're you doing today?" 

"Much better now that you're here," he said with a gallant smile. She had to smile back. She'd only met him once before but this seemed to be about what she remembered. The guy probably threw his coat across puddles for girls who could jump over buildings. Boys could be a bit odd that way. "How're you doing?" 

"Huh. Alright. No med badge trips today. I was a model of self restraint." 

Electron grinned and then flagged down the waitress, plucking a menu easily out of her hands. "Could you hold my order until my friend here decides? Thanks." 

All in all, it was an unexpectedly pleasant lunch. Yes, Mulligans did serve fried sucker, although it didn't taste too much like what was served back at the cafeteria. It was fresh though, no arguing that, since she was pretty sure she saw it wiggle a few times in its final death throes. A little spicier than she liked but it came with a generous portion of tartar on the side, which helped with the burn. Electron had stuck with the ubiquitous fish and chips, probably having decided that it was the safest bet. 

It was sort of surreal. She wasn't used to doing much more than wolfing her food, nor did she talk during the necessary event, preferring to consume and run. Electron was good company though, obviously trying to make her laugh at his jokes and teasing comments, looking at her face and then glancing away. She tried to pay attention to the food itself but it just.. well, tasted like food really. That probably wouldn't make a good review, come to think of it.  _ Come to Mulligans. We have food. _ She'd have to come up with something else.  _ Come to Mulligans, where you can't see what you're eating and you'll like it that way. _ That was probably worse. Maybe she should steal a napkin and figure it out later. 

It wasn't until Electron gave up on the usual girl angles and started talking city factions that she was finally able to relax. Turned out they both didn't like the Circle, but hated the Tsoo worse. That silly blinking around - just what was  _ with _ that anyways? Plain frustrating was what it was. They kibitzed for almost an hour and by the time she'd chased the last bit of sucker around the plate with its dollop of disguising tartar and filched the last of Electron's chips she was feeling pretty good about things. He was a fun person to talk to. 

Then, of course, he had to say something silly. 

"Look, Stasis. I had a really great time." 

She could only nod. She'd had a pretty good time too, all the more pleasant for being unexpected. Sometimes she felt like she was the only one roaming around Striga, seeing the sights. Well, the few sights that there were anyways. One of these days she figured she'd get back here and borrow a Sky Skiff for an afternoon. Zoom around, dive bomb the vampyr. She grinned and that might have been the wrong thing to do. Electron's voice got stronger, a little more confident. 

"I'd kind of like to meet you as something other than an accident," he blurted out. She blinked, her grin starting to melt faster than summer snow. "I mean, do you want to go out sometime? Maybe check out a few more restaurants, maybe see a movie or something?" He gave her a winning smile, leaning forward subtly across the small table. "Just to get out and like,  _ do _ something for a change. What do you say?" He hadn't stammered at all but his face did look a little warm around the edges. He did seem very sincere and earnest though, a far cry from certain other propositions. 

And she did like him, she did. Why did boys always have to  _ do _ this? Just when she was starting to have fun too. Offering to stick an ice cube up his nose just didn't seem to be an appropriate response for once, since he seemed serious enough to be really hurt. Familiar confusion rose in her throat like a mist, equal parts panic and resentment. 

Yet... Kris had a boyfriend. A pretty serious boyfriend judging by all the smoochy noises they made whenever she turned her back on them for a few minutes and sometimes even before she managed to get out of range. Even Lycia was hanging out with the Peerless Jade Rooster although it seemed more friendly than anything else, judging by the crowing and posing during patrol runs. How come she was the only one left out? 

She opened her mouth... and closed it again. His smile was starting to wilt around the edges but he still looked determined, like he wanted to reach across the table and hold her hand. She carefully pulled them into her lap the remove the temptation. She rubbed a thumb nervously over a set of knuckles, oddly reminded of when Sage had licked them. She tried to forget the thoughts about the soap; that had just been a momentary aberration. 

Would it be so bad, really? Do a restaurant, a movie? Maybe find out what all the smoochy noises were about? Kris seemed to be enjoying herself. 

She opened her mouth again in the hopes of something other than a squeak. Squeaking wasn't all that dignified and she sort of needed dignity at the moment in order not to embarrass them both. 

"Electron .. um, thank you. Really. I've enjoyed myself, I have." Words. Actual, my God, words. No squeaking either. Hallelujah, she was getting better that this. 

"But the answer is no, isn't it?" He looked disappointed but it wasn't too bad. A quick glance at his face surprised her with its odd mingling of emotion. If anything, he looked both relieved and determined. 

"Please don't take it the wrong way, okay? You're really nice. You let me steal your chips which always counts in my books but I'm just not the dinner and a movie kind of girl. Can't we just be friends?" 

She'd used that line so many times that she should probably just have it engraved on a business card. A little traitor video inside her head decided at that moment to run her a little clip of Kris' face after being with Arrow, all glowy and happy. Didn't she want to feel that way too, about someone? Even for a little while? Arresting things in the Bog until she fell down in furious exhaustion didn’t really count. 

"Friends. You know something? I've seen you around the grounds; you're almost always in the middle of things and almost nobody knows who you are." Propping an elbow on the table and leaning his cheek against his hand, he gave her a quizzical look. "I listen to the comm channel and it's you but it's not really you." He tapped one finger to his temple. "I know it because this is who I am, and part of what I do." 

She had no idea what to say to that so it was good that he continued. 

"The dinner offer stands, or a movie, or even anything else that you'd like. I want to get to know you better. D’you think we can work something out?" 

She stared into his face and tried to imagine him as something like what Arrow was to Kris. His eyes were warm, a little shy but still he met her gaze without flinching. It was like one of those magic eye pictures, but she couldn't get it to resolve itself into anything she could understand. 

Did she feel that way about him? Well, no. But she didn't exactly know him that well, did she? 

Across that table, with its silly red checkerboard, Stasis started to smile and then to grin. 

"Anything I wanna do, huh? Tell me - how do you feel about Sky Skiffs?"


	10. Mulligans 03

_ Skiffs _ , she muttered not for the for the first time,  _ really ought to come with instructions. _

Although truth be told the flying itself actually hadn't been all that difficult. Possibly due to the higher echelons knowing exactly what segment of society they were recruiting from, it had been surprisingly easy to get past the  _ going to die! going to die! _ stage to the  _ i'm zooooooooming!  _ part. 

And once up the air they'd had a great time; well, except for that one near catastrophe with the bridge support and the totally unplanned but exhilerating hammerhead stall immediately afterwards. The view through the clear paned cockpit had been amazing and her back teeth had all but rattled with the thrust of the twin jets. She'd probably spent more time making incomprehensible gestures out the window to Electron and laughing like a banshee than anything else. 

She'd gotten up, she'd figured out the zooming part... down, however, looked to be a little more problematic. 

_ Bah. How hard could it be? _ Silly question and one she decided to ignore. Down was sort of inevitability at some point, might as well get it over with. Following the looping trail that Electron was leaving, she pushed the stick thing in the likely direction and did her best to keep up. 

______ 

Walking away from the wreckage felt pretty darned good. Her little ship looked mostly intact on the outside, but that last bounce had been accompanied by a pretty ominous sounding crunch. The torque alone had skewed the craft sideways from her original orientation and looking back it looked sort of drunk, leaning against a convenient chunk of landscape. 

Electron was just getting out of his immaculately parked craft though so maybe he hadn't noticed. He didn't say anything anyways as she walked up. 

"Mind telling me what we're doing out here?" This side of Striga wasn't somewhere she'd been before, although she might have gone by it a few times. Nowhere even close to the Raiders warehouse though; it occurred that she might have to make an anonymous phone call with directions and forklift requirements. Her Skiff probably wasn't going anywhere in a big hurry. 

Electron just ran a hand through his hair and gave her a smile. "It'll be worth it, trust me." He looked like a little boy with a secret. What could possibly be out here that was worth crashing landing for? Just bush and a few trees as far as she could tell. 

Curious despite herself she followed since he seemed to know exactly where he was going. It wasn't until they rounded a curve and dropped to a soft sand beach that she understood.

Afterwards she could never be sure if he'd timed their arrival deliberately or if it had just been serendipity. At the time it hadn't really mattered. 

"Beautiful, isn't it?" 

There was a place in Independence that might compare, moonrise over Terra Volta, but here the lowering sun coated everything in gold and haze, sparkled the water with dancing life. She could almost taste it on her tongue it was so real. 

The question in his voice was odd. Of course it was beautiful. She nodded and realised that he probably needed something more. 

"It's gorgeous." She said it softly, not wanting to tremble the air with disruption. The light turned another shade of glorious as if to answer, the rest of the world suddenly a million miles away. His answering smile echoed the feeling. 

The sand shifted beneath her boots and when he sat down on a smoothly worn rock she did as well. It was still warm with sunlight, baking into her bones. The excitement of earlier slipped away to be replaced by familiar, boneless suspension. Beauty did this to her, it always had. She could feel thought sliding between her fingers like a liquid to drop unnoticed onto the sand. 

When he spoke, she replied without thinking even as the light danced its slow way to death. His body was warm next to hers, another sort of heat against her side closing the space between them. So far under had she fallen into reverie, watching the failing light, that when he put his arm around her she didn't feel anything but warm. 

It was his eyes, she decided. There was no malice in them, no agendas. Nothing but honesty, appeal, and a painful tenderness. She hardly knew him but when he reached out and took her hand she permitted that as well. His voice stumbled a little but she could tell he meant everything he said. His words chased themselves like puppies. 

So warm. 

His hair was gold in this light. That alone brought her closer to a surface she had almost forgotten. His eyes were a color she didn't recognise. 

"I... do not know how to be anything more than friends." 

Her voice was the awkward one, still half in the other world of dreamless clarity. 

"Stasis, I really like you and I don't want to be just your friend. I'd like to try and be something more." 

Not puppy words, not those, not with his fingers squeezing hers and getting warmer by the minute. Warmer as she got woke up and got colder. He leaned in as if to persuade, to cajole, his breath running possessively along her cheek. 

Much too close. She awoke from the haze and the dream and he was much, much too close. 

"No." 

The surge was half bolt, half defiance, up and off the rock to tear her fingers away from his, that warm, heavy arm falling away. Three steps was safety enough and a bitter taste curled under her tongue. Why did boys always have to  _ do _ this? What was  _ wrong _ with friends? 

She whirled, ready to attack as newly won defenses came back online. They asked and they pushed and they promised things they didn't mean. They implied things they didn't mean, would  _ never _ mean and it was all some silly, silly game. He'd brought her here just to... to…

His eyes were hurt. The hand that had touched hers was curled into a fist on his lap. 

Stasis took a deep breath, there in the last of the light, and when she expelled it it was frost and anger. Not for him though. For herself. She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to remember who she was. It had been silly of her to let down her guard. 

"No, I do not want you to be something more. I am happy to be alone." 

As soon as she said it, she knew it was the wrong thing because it wasn't precisely true. She could see on his face that he knew it. 

"Nobody is happy to be alone. Least of all you." 

"I'm by myself all the time." Another half truth. Yes, she was often alone and often by choice. But it wasn't because she was happier so; it was because she didn't want to be anything other than happy around others. Some things were so much better confined to moonrise and self willed destruction. 

"But you don't really like it, do you?" 

Say the words and it would be done. She'd done it before and it always worked. He would be hurt and he wouldn't talk to her again and that would be that. Boys could be predictable that way. So easily offended, so easily driven off. 

She tried to say it, she did. Problem was she just wasn't that good a liar and the seconds slipped away while she struggled to formulate something. When he finally broke the silence there was a thread that she couldn't decipher in his voice. 

"You have enough friends." Now what was that supposed to mean? "I'm not going to be afraid to tell you that I don't want to be just one of the many. Don't you see, Stasis? You make me .. feel things I'm afraid of. And I want you to feel them too." 

She was already afraid but when he stood up and walked towards her, she refused to run. Crowds made her run; too many people, too much expectation that boiled panic in her throat but there was only Electron here, only the flash of his hair in the failing light. This time he didn't try to take her hands, instead settling his grip around the curve of her shoulders. He shook her mute body once, gently. She hoped the cold was burning his hands. 

"I'm willing to take risks to get the things I want. Are you?" 

"Yes!" That was anger but it was truth and he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. 

"Then let's risk this. Let me be more. Let me try to be more." 

"I only want to be friends," she said. Why was this such a hard concept? His fingers squeezed her arms. 

"I want to be more than that." 

He wasn't giving up on this obviously. She looked at his face, not sure what she was seeing. It wasn't exactly confidence. Determination? 

"Do you know the best gift I ever got?" 

It was a question out of nowhere and it jarred that scary look at least halfway off his face. His eyebrows raised and then lowered. 

"No. What?" 

"Armor. Freakshow armor. Wachabe got it for me as an apology a little while ago, when he messed up. Not roses, Electron. Not dinner, not movies, not silly romantic beaches at sunset. He got me  _ armor _ ." She let him absorb that for a moment before continuing. "Sky Skiff death matches and falling from the highest places I can reach and armor that maybe will fail in the middle of battle, and you know I'm going to push it farther than it wants to go. That is who I am. I don't want anything else. I don't  _ need _ anything else." 

He took a deep breath. "You haven't said no, though." 

She... blinked at him. Say what? Hadn't she just pretty much said  _ no trespassing _ ?

"I'm not going to just stand here and pretend I don't feel what I feel. And I'm going to do my best to make sure you're not alone anymore. I'm just asking for a chance." 

It was slow enough but too sudden to stop. A kiss, feather light against her unresponsive lips. A butterfly tingle. 

"Think about it. Take a risk." 

When his hands fell away, she couldn't do anything at all except stare. She had no idea what was on her face but it must have been good. He stepped back and bowed formally. She couldn't do anything at all but watch him go. 

It was full dark by the time she finally roused out of stunned revelation on that cold beach. 

"Well... hell."


	11. Arabesque

_ Come. _

She was faster, so much faster than he was.

The earth that crawled over his skin made him a small god, stone and magic and poison running through magma veins. But slow, so slow. She spun on one booted heel, swayed as a massive fist connected; struck a glancing blow against her shoulder. The sound echoed oddly in her ears.

_ Come to me. _

There was no sanity left in his eyes, not now if there had ever been. She sank a fist in his ribs, drove the other into his belly. No purchase, no damage, no answer even. Just the rage she had to have. An incoherent roar burst from frothing lips even as he lunged, reaching. A vicious backhand exploded across her face.

_ Dance with me. _

There was blood then, his, hers, it didn't matter. He followed only her, saw only her, needed only her. So close to perfect, even with flashes of motion in the corners of her eyes. Slid under a careless arm, so close that armor touched armor in a lover's kiss. 

Did he feel it? Did he see? She wanted him to see.

_ Be with me. _

She spiraled in lockstep, half tucked against his side. Hands to touch the stone, fingers shedding power in ribbons of blood, flesh to hard flesh in the only embrace that mattered. The shock shuddered through both of them as she tore away a portion of his life with her left hand, snatched yet more with her right.

Not enough. Too close to evade now as twin hammers rose, fell, broke across her back. Pain was a white sheet across her mind, a sharp whistle through her teeth. Through the haze of it she saw them rise again and laughed.

The second shattered ice, drove deep cracks through everything she was. Vengeance returned two-fold.

_ Love me. _

The third broke bones and took her to her knees.

He was raising his hands for the fourth when he died.

"Gyul!  _ Tara! _ "

A dark shadow over her again but the voice... she knew the voice. Standing took more than she had to give but she did it so that the worried hand wouldn't touch her, wouldn't see how badly she was broken beneath the surface. A name then, to match the rough patois.

"I'm okay, Jai. That was... tough."

Perfect, so close to perfect, with those hands so willing to break and the heat of his eyes. Water froze silently against her skin, laced her eyelashes with frost. Began to knit again the things that were damaged. She glanced around to see faces she barely knew looking at her with odd expressions. Jai. August. Kid.

"I tol' you no dyin' today, gyul." A warning although she heard also the promise he hadn't meant to give. She grinned because it was expected, tasted copper on the back of her tongue. 

"If you say so."

Not quite perfect, at the last. 

She was, after all, still alive.


	12. Dance Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: This wasn't actually written by me, but Jai's writer and is told from his point of view. I've included it without permission because I love it so very much and hopefully his writer is okay with it if he ever trips over this archive.

Jai ran down the hall, grinning like an idiot, heading to the end of the hall. He stopped at the door and knocked rapidly. Beyind the threshold, the quiet giggling and softly playing music went quiet. Then the door opened, and Lycia peered through into the hall. Her face went from guiltily worried to her customary brightness. 

"Ginga!" she squealed. Somewhere behind her, someone grumbled audibly. 

Jai smiled, trying to ignore the grumbling. "Miss Lycia, allo!" 

A light of realization came into Lycia's eyes. "It's here?" 

Jai nodded. "Fuh certain. I been dere fuh ovuh an hour-- an' ya was right! I nevah seen anytin' like it!" 

Lycia giggled, and vanished into the room. Jai stood in the hall, listening to the exchange within. "C'mon..." he heard Lycia whine. "It's a surprise, you'll like it, really!" 

Whoever she spoke to just grumbled a little and mumbled something about having some freakshow to beat on. 

Jai stamped his foot. "Alright, ya sometimey gyul! Ya ain' doin' no good!" He shoved the door open and stepped into the doorway. She sat on her bed, hastily donning her armor, and trying very hard to look too busy to look up. Lycia had one of her hands, and was pulling on it, vainly trying to get her on her feet. Between the pulling and only having one hand, the armor-donning was probably futile, but Stasis Kiss was giving it her best effort. 

Lycia turned her head and put on an expression of mock frustration. "Ginga, help meee! She won't get uuuup!" she whined playfully. 

Jai grinned and stepped forward. "Okay den. Tara, don' make me carry ya down ta de rec-room, gyul." he reached for her other arm mischievously. 

Stasis snapped her head up. "Don' you be touching me, Jai!" she growled, slurring the T of the word don't. Over the last few days, parts of his accent had slipped into her speech. Jai still didn't know what to make of that. 

Ginga grinned. "Den don' be makin' me. Stan' up an' come along an' have some fun wit us." 

"Yeeeeah," Lycia pleaded. 

Stasis gave Lycia a look. Jai was fairly certain it meant something, but Lycia seemingly ignored it, shaking her head. Stasis sighed, defeated by the frenetic girl before her. She tore her arm away from Lycia's grasp, but started unbuckling the shoulder-plate of her armor. 

"Yay!" Lycia cried happily. 

And then they were in the hallway, Lycia and Jai running ahead, then pausing to wait for Stasis. Occasionally, Lycia stamped her foot and feigned impatience. Stasis plodded along, wondering what she had done to deserve any of this. 

At the bottom of the stairs, Jai turned into the recreation room. He stopped short, breathtaken. Lycia skipped up next to him, smiling. Stasis came around the corner and groaned loudly. 

Standing amidst the pinball machines and foozball was a large, bright, loud box. The sign across the top read "Dance Dance Dance." 

Stasis blinked, realization setting in. "Oh, no. No, no, a thousan' times no."

Ginga grinned like a jab-jab. "Yes, yes," he began. 

Lycia finished the thought. "A thousand times yes!" 

And then they were dragging her-- almost literally-- across the room. 

"I can't do this, no, I have two left feet, honestly, guys." her voice was almost pleading. "Lycia, Jai-- don' make me do this." 

But Lycia was already feeding a dollar-bill into the machine's hungry innards. Lights flashed. The game came to life. "Welcome, dancer!" a synthesized announcer crooned. 

And somehow, Stasis found herself on the pad, with Ginga standing beside her. "Ya don' worry 'bout nothin, Tara," he said, the mischief in his face mized with a sort of serious tone he sometimes struck, and which she sometimes resented. "Dey diff'rent settin's an' everytin'. Ya jus' follow along and we have yuh dancin'." 

"Yeah!" Lycia chimed in. 

And the screens rolled by, Jai changing the settings. Stasis got set to 'novice', Jai to 'expert.' And then a confusing myriad of arrows started flowing up the screen as the music pumped and rumbled. Jai's side of the screen was flooded with arrows; Stasis had only a few to pay attention to. 

Ginga smiled happily at her. "Here we go, gyul!" 

Stasis swallowed hard, but moved her feet.


	13. Poppy Seeds

"Biff is starting to be a problem." 

He didn't answer right away, simply handing over a poppy bagel from the crumpled bag in his hand. Against her back the rough brick was warm from the ovens below, almost hot enough to burn and the smell of the bakery mingled oddly with the tang of salt water. The mournful wail of barges could be heard calling across the water as they struggled to find port through the morning fog. 

She sympathised. It was really much, much too early to be up and moving around. Classes weren't due to start for another two hours. 

"Who's Biff?" 

She rocked a foot against his thigh, making him sway. His feet dangled over the edge of the roof which probably looked passing strange to anybody looking up from below. 

"Don't go there, Jade. You know perfectly well who I mean and it's a nasty drop to the ground." 

"This? I've fallen farther than this in my sleep." He made a point of peering down, grace notes of hair falling forward to touch his face. "Why, Master Lei would often have me sleep at the top of the highest..." 

"Hey. Sherlock Rooster. In case you hadn't noticed I'm not your Master Lei and I bet I can still launch you further than he could. I'm pretty certain that I've got more motivation." 

He gave her a sidelong look. "I've noticed." 

"What? That I have more motivation?" 

"No. That you're not Master Lei." 

"Huh." Something odd fluttered in her stomach, like she'd eaten a butterfly along with a mouthful of warm bread. "Anyways, you're changing the subject." 

"Like you never do." A grin betrayed his sarcastic tone. 

"Rig... hey! Look, I'm being serious here." 

"So was I." 

"Rooster..." 

He held up his hands to placate her. "Okay. So what about Hannigan? He breathe too much of your air again?" 

She rocked him harder, digging her heel in. Apparently it was a little too much as one hand grabbed her ankle and moved it up so that her boot rested on his thigh, his fingers digging in. Gently enough but she could feel the tingle as one casual thumb stroked a pressure point. 

She left it there. If she wanted her foot back she'd have to fight him for it and then he'd win. Besides, she was comfortable. She took another bite of bagel. 

"No, he knows better than to bother me most of the time. I found him and that posse of his..." 

" _ Most _ of the time?" 

"Would you just focus for a minute here? What about all that Furious Storm Calms The Waters stuff?" 

"Sleeping Dragon Guards The Portals," he intoned gravely. Peering suspiciously at his face she had no idea if he was being serious or not. "The meditation that makes the mind smooth and narrows qi to its finest point. Master Lei favored it most highly." 

"And you probably practised it on tops of really big towers in your sleep. Look, Biff and his pack were shoving around the new guy after second bell yesterday." 

Jade shrugged, a miniscule motion barely felt. "So Biff is a bully. It's not like that's news." 

"I mean, they  _ jumped _ the guy, three on one. The kid looked kinda scared, I'm pretty sure there was some rough stuff going on before I showed up." 

"You can't save everyone, Stasis." His voice suggested he was speaking to himself as much as he was to her. His hand squeezed her ankle. "Which new one was this?" 

"The dark haired guy, he's sort of hard to miss. Name's Jai." She finished licking the crumbs from her fingers, not even flinching as Jade pulled one of his powerbars from inside his robe and handed it to her. He bought the bagels, she ate the bar. A simple system but it worked. "He sounds like he's talking martian half the time." 

"Ah, him. The guy from Trinidad, right?" After making sure she was opening hers, he produced another granola bar, tearing its foil wrapper away with his teeth. "I've seen him in action a few times, he's got some serious moves. He does this thing where he'll drop into something like a Crane Wave Fist, but he shifts his weight backwards and-" 

"You're like a ferret, you know?" She crumpled the gaudy foil packaging in her hand and lobbed it, letting it bounce off of the top of his head and into his lap. "I'm telling you about the guy getting gang jumped and you're analyzing his technique?" 

Taking a moment to chew thoughtfully through the dry dietary supplement, he thumbed the crumbs from the corner of his mouth. "All I'm saying is, he could teach me a thing or three and he can probably handle himself. Besides, Biff's never gonna back off if this Jai goes looking for help right away. It's... an honor thing." 

Stasis snorted, her opinion of that statement not terribly high. "You can't honestly tell me that you think Hannigan is going to leave him be because it's the 'honorable thing to do.’”

"No, but I can tell you if anyone comes off as the weak-and-needy type, Hannigan smells the blood in the water. We leave it alone, Biff'll keep pushing until one day he'll push too far and end up with a well-deserved foot in the face. He'll learn not to mess with the kid, and everything will be set right. Happily ever after." 

"It doesn't work like that." 

Jade was already shaking his head. "It does. Trust me on this, it works exactly like that."

"That's a load of .. malarkey." He grinned at her, hearing the word she barely dodged. "You don't let the big kids pound the little kids until eventually somebody ends up in the hospital." 

"So what are you going to do then? Stand over the guy until everybody thinks you're his guardian angel come to earth?" He twitched the nearly forgotten wrapper from his lap and deposited it neatly in the brown paper bag, then added his own. "That won't solve anything." 

Stasis grumbled something under her breath that Jade affected not hear. "Well, I'm not going to just stand around and watch the macho posturing," she eventually managed to articulate. 

"Yeah, you will. Unless it gets out of hand, just stay out of it." 

From her vantage point of three feet away, warm brick pressing into her back, she traced the smooth line of his cheek against the lightening sky. Something clicked into place. 

"He went for you too, didn't he?" 

He shot her a look, half amusement, half something else. "I'm half his size, Stasis. What do you think?" 

"Huh." She nibbled her lip for a moment before finally blurting it out. "So. How did you handle it?" 

His fingers tightened on her forgotten ankle, making her shiver for no reason that she could explain. "Easy. I put a foot in his face. He got the message." 

"Jade!" 

Warm brown eyes grinned at her, their odd flecks catching the light. "Hey. Biff might want to date you but he just wants to pound the rest of us. I know who got the better end of that deal." 

She wrinkled her nose at him. "Huh. No argument there." 

Jade grinned and then looked away into the thinning fog, his eyes narrowing. Probably checking for the time although how he could tell with the sun only a vague haze low in the sky was beyond her. A seagull chose that moment to cry out, cutting through the air. She glanced surreptitiously at her wrist chrono. Almost time. 

They must have come to the same answer because a moment later her captured boot was on the ground. He was standing over her without seeming to have gone through any of the intervening motions. She shook her head, impressed despite herself. She couldn't move that fluidly if her life depended on it. She was pretty sure she'd break something even trying. 

"Ready?" He didn't wait for an answer, reaching down. She took his hand without hesitation to accept the lift to her feet. His fingers were warm in hers and strong. She could still smell the poppy seeds. 

"Born ready." Automatic answer. Standing, she was taller than he was, not that it ever made a difference. 

"Then let's go. We're going to be late." 


	14. Clarity

She is clear, all the way to the bone. 

Not glass, because glass shatters. Not diamond, because she is not worth so much. Not even ice - because ice melts and exposes the worst places of the heart. Water can only wash away so much sin. 

No, she is lucent and light as she walks down the hallway. Daybreak works its way through the tall windows to streak her hair pale and dark as she passes. Nothing hurts anymore, nothing matters. 

Her girl is gone. 

And Jaygo knew. 

The quad is just how she left it. Somehow she thought it would be different but it's not, nothing has changed as she stands in the doorway. Kris' bed is made, waiting quietly for her to return, a stack of books on the bedside table. Lucia's corner is simpler with just a blue-gray corner to betray the suitcase still tucked against the wall and a snow angel looking shy on the single pillow. The third bed is still a tumble of clothes and shoes and laughter. A black sequin winks from the floor. 

A photograph, this room, already fading at the edges. 

She is clear as she walks to the windows and drags them open. She doesn't have much and the few things she owns are light as feathers. She must be making noise but really, she doesn't hear anything. Water falls and speaks its own music even as the bedframe breaks in her hands like matchsticks. It is only when the place that used to be hers is made straight and empty that she turns to look at the place where laughter once was. 

It is right that her hands are wet because her face is dry. 

Her girl is not coming back, these things are also empty. It takes no time at all before the laughter is gone. Glass has shattered somewhere along the way, glittering on the floor but she has not. 

Two things she has saved from the slaughter. Things crunch under her feet as she picks the first one from the corner where she has thrown it, wrapping a red fist around the shoulder strap. The spikes are dull but they're supposed to be, the wicked curve of it smiling. Wachabe's gift, unlooked for, undeserved. The second is still in its slim box and she breaks the catches with one hand, cracking the metal. 

In the rising light it is so beautiful and for the first time she hesitates. Another gift, undeserved. Worth so much more than she is. She reaches for the cold, cold hilt. 

The armor is meant to shield, the sword meant to protect. She did neither. She watched one across the room, and touched another, and failed a third while her girl died alone. 

Light as air now. Up, the armor against the wall and the killing point of ice against its throat. She does not need skill for this, she knows intimately where armor can break. She hears finally the sound of crying as the keen edge slices through the metal and pins her failure to the wall. 

It is not a crucifix but it will do. Her heart made real, spikes and pain and blood. Her warning. 

Her girl is gone. 

And Jaygo knew. 

Before anything else, that will be taken care of. Before anything else, that will be  _ fixed _ .

  
  



	15. The Night Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: Again, this chapter was not written by me but by Jai's writer. Again, I'm including it because I love it so much, it's important to Stasi's character and I still hope if his writer ever stumbles across this archive that I am forgiven for not asking permission first.

Stasis wished that it were true: that her heart was frozen. That would be preferable to fluttery, which was far too aggravating and happening far too often. It happened when Lucas had kissed her. It happened on the rooftop in the early dawn with the Rooster. And it was happening now, waiting for Jai Marchan. 

She sat on her bed, trying to watch television, but she found her eyes continually wandering to the door. She found herself unable to follow what was going on in the show that was on, which made it even more difficult. She breathed out a long sigh, watching her breath turn into tiny flakes of ice. 

“He’ll be here when he gets here,” Lycia said, and Stasis sucked in her breath, embarrassed. Lycia was looking at herself in the full-length mirror, pulling her best glamorous supermodel impression: kissing the air, turning her shoulder, winking. She had her new dress on and she couldn’t wait to show it off at the dance the following night. She hadn’t been able to stop talking about it. 

“No, I know,” Stasis said awkwardly. She shook her head. “Or maybe he won’t. He’d do that just to start an argument with me.” 

“No he wouldn’t!” Lycia cried, turning from the mirror to face her, hands on her hips. “Don’t say that, Stasi. He’s only been here for a little while, but so far, Ginga hasn’t broken his word to either of us.” 

Lucia looked up from her book. “I don’t really know him,” she said quietly. “Remind me again why we’re breaking the rules to have him here after curfew?” 

“Well he was going to come by whether we let him or not,” Stasis replied quickly. Too quickly, she thought. 

“Ginga’s great, Lucky,” Lycia said, flopping down onto her bed. “We had a great time in the park the other day, right Stasi?” Lucia looked interested, so Lycia continued. “He knows martial arts, like Rooster! But, they’re so different! He fights by dancing! It’s really beautiful!” Lycia looked back at Stasis. “Wasn’t the park a riot?” 

Stasis nodded. But it was after the park that had left an impression on her. The trolls they had fought. That ogre, so strong, trading blows with her until she thought she would lose consciousness. And then Jai, twirling past her, forcing her back into August’s arms. August channeling her energy to heal Stasis’ broken bones, even as Jai tried to keep the ogre occupied. Dodging, but not quick enough, Striking, but not hard enough. And as she rose, ready to return to the fray, she watched him fall. Her whole gut had felt the last blow he took, the one that sent him spiraling through the air to land on the pavement. And then, just when she thought he couldn’t get any crazier, she watched as he struggled to stand. She charged, the ogre turned. Jai was on his feet, impossibly. And even as he wiped blood from his mouth, he moved in. Then he was airborne, twisting gracefully, and his heel came down on the back of the ogre’s head. And the unthinkable had happened. The ogre dropped to his knees. Such beautiful idiocy. 

Lycia was still talking, and Stasis suddenly realized she didn’t know about what. So she smiled and nodded, and hoped it was the right response. 

Lucia giggled. “That does sound fun,” she said. “But now I know why the hamper smelled so bad, too.” 

“Plus,” Lycia added, a sly look on her face, “you get to hear him call her Tara.” 

Stasis started at the mention of her name, which even Lycia seldom used. Lucia turned and looked at her, a shocked smile on her face. “Really?” 

Stasis was about to respond, when a quiet knock on the door made them hush. Stasis glanced at Lycia, and Lycia grinned. Stasis rose from the bed and crept quickly to the door. “Who is it?” she whispered through the door playfully. 

“Lemmie, in, sometimey, fuh jeez-an-ages,” came the hushed and panicked reponse. 

For a moment, Stasis considered making him sweat. Leaving him in the hallway as a joke, to make him squirm. But only a moment. She swung the door inwards. Jai slipped inside, his silly grin splitting his face, holding a knapsack. He wore a red t-shirt with a black bull’s head emblazoned upon it. Beneath the bull’s head, the t-shirt read “Charge!” She didn’t recognize what it meant, but then, she was getting used to that. How could anyone who spoke English be so  _ foreign _ ? 

Lycia had jumped into the bathroom to change out of her dress, but her voice came cheerfully into the room, “Hello Ginga! You can’t see my dress until tomorrow!” 

Jai laughed, and nodded at Lucia as a greeting. “Yuh take yuh time, Miss Lycia,” he replied. Then his eyes fell full upon Stasis. “Allo, Tara. Yuh doin’ well?” 

“Jai,” she replied, looking away and shutting the door. She turned back to face him, but he wasn’t looking at her anymore. He had knelt in the center of the room, fishing through the knapsack. 

Lucia peered over. “What’d you bring, Ginga?” 

“Only da bes’, deah Miss Adriaens,” he said, mischief in his voice. He held up a bottle of a pale golden liquid. “I bring da rum,” he continued, and pulled a thin black rectangle out of the bag with his other hand. “An’ I bring ‘De Little Mermaid’.”

Lycia squealed in delight from the bathroom. Lucia shifted between smiling at the DVD case and frowning at the bottle. Which, strangely, was almost the exact opposite reaction that Stasis felt. “Y’ can’t be serious, Jai,” she groaned. “We’re not watching that.” 

Eerily, her three friends responded in almost perfect unison: “Yeah we are.” Stasis blinked by the sudden show of unity. Resistance was useless. 

Stasis shook her head. “Well, fine, but we’re not drinking, I don’t drink.” But though the words came out right, she realized her tone didn’t sound as definite as she had intended. Her tone, she realized, said  _ convince me _ . 

Jai didn’t miss it. He looked back over his shoulder at her, with that damned impish smile. “Yuh don’ tink yuh can handle it?” His eyes dared her. He slowly began to put the bottle back in the knapsack. “Don’ worry, I understan’.” 

“Damn it, Jai,” she groaned, exasperated already, even as she felt that damnable flutter again. 

But it was Lycia who settled the matter as she came out of the bathroom in her nightshirt. “Well, I’m having some.” She walked to the center of the room and knelt down by Jai, a plastic cup from Mega-Market in her hand. Lucia stared in disbelief, and Stasis felt her own face tighten. 

Jai nodded. “We need ta chill it down firs’,” he chuckled, and he turned and tossed the bottle to Stasis. “Here yuh go, gyul,” he said, eyes flashing. “Use yuh power fuh somtin’ constructive.” 

She glared at him, but she found herself smiling anyway. Infuriating boy. She held the bottle in both hands, until a thin veil of frost formed on it. She held his eyes with hers, and his smile broadened. And then, she acted on impulse: defiantly, she unscrewed the cap and drank a swallow from the bottle. It wasn’t what she had expected. The liquid was cold, but made her mouth feel hot. Jai laughed and held out his hand. She handed the bottle back to him. 

“Well den,” Jai said, tipping the bottle to Lycia’s cup, “it seem dat once again, a night wit Tara is anodduh night a’ surprises.” Even though he wasn’t looking at her, Stasis made a face. 

Lucia grabbed the DVD case from the floor and opened it. “I just want to watch the movie,” she said. 

“Mama yo, den, start it up, Miss Adriaens,” Jai said, and took a drink from the bottle himself.

  
  



	16. Mulligans 06

She lands lightly enough, all things considered. Under her boots the ground compresses with the impact, crunching softly. The shock is enough to jar her teeth. She’d forgotten how unforgiving Striga can be. 

Yeah. She’s really looking forward to this conversation. 

She’s already striding forward though, almost before her feet are on the ground. She faces the worst that Paragon has every day. She is not going to flinch from this. 

The small rocks shift under her heels, threatening to twist an ankle. A dark impulse wonders if that’s a good idea. She can have Lucas put his hands on… no. That is a silly idea. She doesn’t need to be rescued and she’s not going to put him in that position. She is not a coward. 

Really. 

She follows the trail from memory, dropping to the soft sand with a whisper. She tries not to think as she turns the corner, trailing one hand over the rough rock face. He is there as she knew he would be, almost like a painting made real. She hesitates for that heartbeat, betrayed. 

Looking at his clean profile against the sky she suddenly understands something she didn’t before. 

Each of them has their own place, separate and apart. Jade at the top of the world, with the moonrise in his eyes. Jai standing in cool water, his hands so full of frightening life. 

Lucas waiting here, with the sunset burning in his hair. 

He turns to watch as she walks up. The look in his eyes sinks barbs into her breathing, catches the panic in her throat. Her hands ball into fists, defensive suddenly, and angry. This is not her fault. Why does she feel this way? 

“Lucas. What’s this about you and Jai fighting in the halls?”


	17. Mulligans 08

Truth. Tell me what you feel. 

She has no idea. 

She opens her mouth to say exactly that, to spit the words in defiant protest. She's been saying it a lot lately as if it's some kind of mantra. She doesn't know, she doesn't know, she doesn't want to know, she doesn't want... to admit it. 

His eyes are so hurt. She can see him struggling to be honest, in the face of all the things she's never been able to say. A good friend, Lucas. His fingers are tentative in hers, not demanding, not forcing anything. No pain in his touch. 

A good friend. 

"Lucas," she starts, "I don't..." She takes a deep breath. "I don't know why you're my friend, but I'm glad you are." 

"But." His fingers squeeze hers and oddly, something in his eyes eases. 

"But. I can't... be who you want me to be. Whoever that is." She holds up a hand to his lips, to forestall whatever protest he might want to make. "Even if it's just who you think I am. But I'm not that person, Lucas. I never was." 

She takes another deep breath, thinking miserably that taking on Nemesis is easier than this. "You asked me to take a risk with you - and I can't. All the places I go," she says, "you do not belong there. Too much..." She is going to say one word, finds another, "...risk. I worry for you, Lucas." 

“Hey, I can take care of myself." Pride flashes in his eyes, tightens his expression. 

"I know," she replies. She can't ever manage to say anything right. "But I still worry." 

"You don't worry about him, do you?" 

She looks at him then, tightening her fingers around his. "No. I don't. Jai belongs where he is. Follows me where I go, even when I don't want him to." She laughs then, half strangled. All the places that Jai has followed, none of them close to safe. "A piece of me, is Jai Marchan." 

The words leave her lips before she thinks about them. For a heartbeat longer she doesn't hear them but then they land like feathers on her heart, sink into her blood. A piece of her, is Jai. Darkness to her light. Light to her darkness. Blazing with warmth where she is so cold. 

She doesn't know what her expression says, but panic.. oh, she is panicked now. Lucas is the one to look away first from whatever he sees. She snatches her fingers out of his and blindly turns to run. 

Tell me what you feel. 

She is suddenly afraid she knows.


	18. The Rescue

She'd never known that funerary flowers could smell so pretty. 

On the roof of the quad the scent is overwhelming, rising to wreath her like a halo. Where did they come from? So many flowers it's like the school courtyard grew into a garden overnight. 

In her lap her fingers are as pale as the lilies below, with blood-moon nails torn to the quick. They seem almost fragile, too thin for her hands which is a lie of course. She hasn't been fragile for a very long time. 

Against the chalk of her skin it is the dark functionality of the comm that seems out of place. She spins it over and over gently, fingers touching its delicate curves, stroking the smooth metal. Small coded lights flash along its slim length in a holiday display. 

Each wink is a message. A tiny voice needing to say  _ sorry, sorry, I just heard, so very sorry _ something to her, to touch her as if that will make everything all right again. As if she can be made whole again. A breath surprises her by catching in her chest, hands spasming on the blind metal, stilling the restless motion. 

They don't care. She doesn't know them, they never knew her, never knew her girl, never cared enough to do more than whisper behind cruel hands. Half remembered faces blur in her eyes until she barely see the lighted voices clamoring, all trying to demand her attention when she has none left to give. 

With a spastic motion she silences the cacophony, consigns them and their sympathy to oblivion. In the sudden stillness one light remains steady, unblinking. 

The channel is still open. 

Wherever he is, he has not shut her out. 

Her thumb rises without thought to caress that tiny spark, touching the charm of it. His comm will show the same; that one steady light that was how they reached each other once upon a time, when it was too hot to run with gate metal burning against her back. When Lycia listened to them argue and told them both to hurry up already. When Jade would laugh and offer to race. 

It has been silent for days. 

The daylight is near gone when she jerks wakes again. She is frantic for a moment until she realizes she is still holding it cupped in her hand, not lost, not broken. The light continues steady and something panicked under her heart eases back, just a little. 

She remembers then what she has to do, what she meant to do when she climbed up here over the flowers she doesn't understand. Her eyes blur but her fingers dial a number from a memory she hadn't known she'd kept. She holds the transceiver to her ear, presses the voice line to her throat with fingers that shake. 

She'll find the words from somewhere. 

He is not there. Smooth as silk his voice translates down the line, the burr of it so carefully judged even in this small matter. The small click is startling at the end as she listens to the static silence. If he had been there... what would she have said? She remembers oddly the color of his eyes, the flame of his hair. What had he wanted to tell her at the dance? 

"Karl. No games. You have something of mine and I want it back. Now." She is not sure if she's saying it right. She is not smooth; the burr in her voice is from crying, not from calculation. "You know how to reach me." Stupid, probably. Maybe she's supposed to threaten or beg or invite him for that drink they never had. November would threaten, she's sure. Francis would flirt. 

Her girl is dead. Every breath she takes it sinks further into her, like a stone falling through dark waters. Dead. Dead. Dead. 

How will she tell Kris? 

She disconnects the line as she hunches over her pain, sucker punched. No. No. No. 

She tries for again for the lucency of the morning but now nothing is clear. Not with twilight falling over the flowers, over her eyes. Her chin touches her chest as her eyes close. 

She stands then, forcing motion into limbs trembling with exhaustion. Ready again to run even if there's nowhere to go. 

The edge is only a step away but it's nowhere near far enough to the ground, nowhere near enough of anything to be what she needs. She has to wait for Karl, for Kris. She has to wait for the steady light to flash. After those things are made straight, she will find her answers in hands that trail darkness. She doesn't know if she can't take him. She only knows that she will try. 

After that she can fall forever if she likes. She knows the place. 

She takes that step then, the wrench of gravity a familiar jolt as she starts to dive headlong to the ground. Fallen angel maybe although that isn’t right. She’d been comet bright once upon a time. 

She doesn't mean it, she doesn't but the motion is so familiar, ingrained in muscle and bone. With a twist, a reach she rights herself against the quad window. Her window, her boots barely knocking the jamb. There is no glass here, not anymore. 

It's like an old, stuttering film; one moment she is  _ there _ on the outside looking in and the next she is  _ here _ , caught in the center. Her eyes are drawn to a pale square on Lucky's bed. She doesn't want to see anything else, will do almost anything not to see anything else. 

A letter. 

She walks across the ragged floorboards and picks it up. Thin, thin, not black, no white flower to lure anybody into danger, no sweet words to poison. Lucky's tiny handwriting wobbles across the face of the paper. She can just barely make it out -  _ To Stasis _ . 

She doesn't need to open it. She can tell the suitcase is already gone, the snow angel missing. It doesn't matter what it says really, this place is desolate but for her. She drops the note back to the bed. 

She hasn't looked but finally she has to. It's been staring at her like a crooked raven the whole time, hanging on the wall. Her promise of vengeance, dark with shadows. 

Wounded light rises in her hands to splash against the walls. She looks again at the sword, the armor. A trick of her eyes makes it seems to dance, cavorting as if in pain. She tries to imagine Jaygo there, that sword buried through his heart. He'd known something. He could have saved Lish if he'd only spoken. It was his fault she'd died.

_ No, not his fault, not his, just yours, you were the one that held him from following, put a hand to his spine, pinned him there with your voice, you are the one that wanted to see his eyes look only to you, you are the one...  _

A thin whine escapes her lips without conscious thought, makes her turn away from the ugliness she has made reality. Jaygo, dead. For some reason Kali's voice rises in her ears. No words but she hears the denial, the frantic plea for an excuse, a reason. Had she said something back, something terrible? She thinks she might have. She is almost sure she did, screaming it into the Terra Volta reactor, hurling it halfway across the world to bury itself back into her heart. 

Will Kali mourn when Jaygo dies? Will Kali make her own crucifix then? 

She crouches then, there in the center of wreckage, hugging herself with hands made raw with power. 

"Jeez-an- _ ages _ . Tara. Whappen?" 

She looks up to find him standing uncertainly in the doorway. His dark eyes take in the shocked room, the gruesome parody pinned to the wall, the broken glass over everything. She sees him look from point to point and she watches the motion of his throat as he swallows. 

It is a silly question. She didn't do anything. 

"Neh, it don' mattuh." His eyes settle on hers then, shutting out the rest with a near audible click. "C'mon gyul, getcha bamsee up. The groun' ain' no place ta be." He makes no noise at all, even over the things that have shattered here until he kneels carefully at her side. Another shadow in this place. 

He is close enough that she can feel the heat of his body. 

"Jai." Her voice closes over that one sound, locking in her throat. Jai. A trick of the light makes his face look wet again. 

"C'mon. Up. Shif' yuh cahcass." 

She shakes her head. "How... did you know?" She is not thinking. She hasn't thought for days. 

“Well, yuh don' like usin' de door so I watch de windows." His voice is soft, like a comforting hand brushing against her face. "An' wen I see de glow, I come runnin'." 

"There's nowhere..." She swallows something thick like candy. "Jai. She's gone. She's really...." A fine shudder runs a finger down her spine, shaking the shadows on the wall. 

"Yeh. Fuh true. I see de GPS aftuh yuh lef', see yuh bouncin' aroun' like yuh goin' orf. Peruhgrin’..? Dat ain' nuh place t' be, sometimey." He hesitates. "Yuh ain' dat strong, not yet." 

She can only shake her head. She's strong enough. She is. Karl will call. Kris. 

Jade. 

She doesn't even realize she's put her fist through the floor until the pain spirals up her shoulder in a riptide. It feels good, more than good with the familiar sick taste in the back of her mouth which means  _ broken _ . His breath hisses out; angry maybe, or scared. "Tara, yuh stop dis! It ain' doin nobody no good!" 

Stupid, stupid. There is no thought as her other fist lashes out, meant to inflict yet more pain, more harm. She hurts. She will make it hurt more. 

She is standing and so is he in an instant translation of vector, yet another hiccup of the film. She can't finish the strike, twist of both body and mind held fast. She feels the strain in the arm that holds her back. Her power coats his fingers but he doesn't let go, doesn't flinch against the pain. His dark eyes hold demon light this close to her. 

"Tara. I say... yuh stop dis." Even now, his voice is soft although she hears the thunder rumbling beneath it now. "Yuh jus' hurtin' yusself, like yuh always do. I tell yuh I ain' gonna let dat happen no more. Not now. Not evah." 

His grip tightens on hers. Slow deliberate pressure until she has to finally give way, surrender, or run. She can't run anymore. There is nowhere else to go. 

She shudders as the power fades as suddenly as it came. His dark fingers thread carefully through hers then, hot to the touch like a flame. 

"Dis ain' no place fuh yuh now, wit dis ruckus. Yuh come away now, Tara." 

One step at a time as he backs them both out of that terrible place. His dark eyes never leave hers, pulling like a soft chain. 

In the hallway though he frowns. She’s not sure what he sees but he obviously doesn’t like it. The lighting is too bright in her eyes, harsh and artificial. They stand there for a moment before he nods, as if making up his mind. 

“Sometimey, we goin' back t' my dorm, okay? It empty 'cep fuh me and I be tinkin' you need sleep more dan anytin’ else. I'll watch yuh tonight, make sure yuh safe. You okay wit' dat?" He looks into her eyes, his hand shaking hers as if to get her attention. "Tara?" 

"Ayuh?" Nothing makes sense. Go where? 

"I said, yuh okay wit dat. I ain' gonna drag yuh dere, gyul. You wanna be somewhere else, I take yuh. Mebbe we go see Roostah." Something in his voice changes, another rumble of thunder. "Yuh always talk t' him." 

No. No. She shakes her head so violently that her short hair whips across her mouth. Jade hasn't called. She has to wait until he calls. Panic wells up from somewhere to spill across her face. 

"Neh? Okay. Okay. We leave de Roostah outta dis fuh now." He mutters something under his breath that she doesn't catch. "Yuh okay wit dat? Come wit me t' dorm fuh sleep?" 

"Please, Jai. The light... hurts." 

He makes a sound, disapproval maybe, or worry. "Dis way den." 

As they walk the feel of his hand in hers is the only thing that's real. Hard calluses brush against her skin, tease her fingers with the urge to trace them, ask how he got them. She finds herself staring at the sliver of skin above his collar, at a single curl tight wound just behind his ear. They cut close to the library and she can feel the wave of their presence cresting in front of them. People turn, stop talking, stare. She keeps her head down, not wanting to meet anybody's eyes. Her fingers tighten painfully in his. 

 

"Wat yuh lookin' at?" Jai's voice is impatient. "We comin' tru so make way, yuh macos." He tugs her forward. 

One set of eyes burns hard enough that she has to meet them. She doesn't recognize the boy, but the expression on his face is clear enough. He takes in the sight of their joined hands, dark and light entwined and sneers. It's enough to raise a ghost of anger and she raises her free hand, forming a fist. A red flower starts to blossom. Nobody has the right to judge. 

"Tara? Wat de matter, gyul?" Jai has half turned to look back at her and when she looks back to where the strange boy was, the spot is empty. She is crazily relieved. He didn't see it. 

"Nothing. Just .. thought I saw something. It's nothing." 

"Well, yuh know dat I worry about yuh nothin's." His smile brings an small answering one from her even as his fingers tug her forward again. "Yuh tell me if yuh see nothin' again." 

"Ayuh, Jai." 

Past the library the student traffic eases and she can feel the prickle between her shoulder blades dissipating. Eventually the sound of their walking changes, the flooring altering to something older as the ingrained dirt of hundreds of days vanishes under her boot heels. A few more students pass them but thankfully nobody in authority. 

An eerily familiar door appears in front of them. Jai pulls a chain over his head, the silver key on it glinting for a moment in his grasp. The door rattles then opens. He pulls her gently into the room and closes it behind them, flipping the light on. 

Without thinking her hand flashes out, slapping it off again. Too bright. Much much too bright. 

"Tara?" 

"Hurts .. my eyes. Sorry, Jai. Please." She's not even sure if it's true. 

"Ah, fuh certain. Jus' a sec, den." 

His fingers slip out of hers finally and she bites her lip with the loss of comfort. In the semi-gloom he moves easily around his quad, turning on a few smaller lights, one next to a messy bed, another near the little color tv. He looks over at her. "Dat bettuh?" 

She nods, walking uncertainly into the center of the large room. Two couches have been squashed together, a rickety table holds the little tv. An overstuffed chair from a hundred years ago is wedged like an old grandmother into a corner. 

She's never been here before and she finds herself herself holding onto her elbows. It looks like hers, in mirror, but three of the beds are clean made and untouched. She does her best not to look at the one corner that is his. She sits without thinking on one of the couches. 

"Yuh hungry, Tara?" 

He puts something under her nose but it doesn't smell good, not at all and she yanks her head away in disgust. He laughs over her head. 

"Don' skin up yuh nose, gyul. Me cookin' ain' dat bad, fuh true. Yuh sure?" 

"Not.. I'm not hungry." Her voice sounds odd in her own ears. She swallows the scratchiness of her throat. "Thanks anyways." 

His smile is pleased, as if she's done something clever. "Suit yusself." Every move he makes is oddly deliberate, slow. She watches him put the food back into a bar fridge, fuss with something she can't see. He comes back then with that soft footed grace and sits down next to her, taking her hand. She shouldn't be surprised but she is. 

"Yuh wanna talk?" 

As simple as that, but that is Jai. Does she want to talk? She shakes her head but again isn't sure if it's true or not. She looks up and something catches her eye. A glint of glass standing on the windowsill. A half full bottle of rum. 

_ You can’t see my dress until tomorrow! _

She leans forward, wrapping her arms around her stomach in useless protection. Lycia, yelling at Jai through the thin bathroom wall. Happy, looking forward to the dance. Lucky trying to drink the rum without gagging from the large plastic cup. Jai's head so close to her knee, watching the movie, singing that silly song. She closes her eyes and does her best to breathe around the pain. 

"Tara?" 

Her name is soft enough to be a feather, laid against her cheek. It drives her up, to her feet, to the bottle before she's even aware she's moved. The glass is smooth and heavy under her fingers. He's half up himself as she turns back, one hand tight against the back of the couch, his expression uncertain. 

Cold rips down her arm, hits the bottle in an audible snap.  _ Use yuh power fuh somtin’ constructive _ . She remembers. She thrusts it out to him like a challenge and he glances from it to her. 

"Lish had the world's worst hangover the next morning. Drink, Jai Marchan. Play the movie." 

Let me remember her. 

Maybe it's on her face, all the things she can't seem to figure out how to say. 

He takes the bottle from her hand then, unscrews the top and takes an easy mouthful. She takes it back and touches it to her lips. The alcohol is burning hot and her eyes water. 

She sits down, a puppet with her strings cut. With infinite care Jai leans over and pulls the dvd off the top of the stack, inserts it into the machine underneath the small tv. He gives her a look over one shoulder before pushing 'play'. 

When the opening credits start to roll, she takes another defiant drink. Worse than the first, or better, it's hard to tell. Tears scald her eyes. 

She doesn't protest when he pulls the bottle out of her fingers. When his arm wraps tentatively around her shoulders it seems right. He's so warm, the rough weave of his shirt against her cheek. He smells like spice and lime. 

But it's only when he sings the silly song into her hair that she is finally able to close her eyes.

 


	19. Dimensional Pockets, Cheap

She hates it in here. 

There is no day, no night, no world outside the forever windows. Walking across the open floor always gives her the vertigo that standing on the tallest towers doesn't. She knows not to look down anymore. 

It's quiet enough at the moment, a lull between the waves that rise and fall in this place. She skirts the knotted clumps, listening to her heels click on the invisible surface. A few people look, one even smiles but she isn't here for that. She mounts the central stairs two at a time, a hand to the rail. 

DJ Zero floats in the center of his power. He claps as he sees her walk onto the central platform and beckons her over without hesitation. A couple of sycophants in too much leather and not enough modesty sneer as she walks by. 

As soon as she steps across the threshold the force bubble snaps up, enclosing her in a pearlescent curve. She swallows the feeling of intense claustrophobia, rubbing her hands on her thighs. 

"Stasis Kiss! One cat that really know how to get down! Now what can I be doing for you today?” His hands move in graceful, restless motions. "Got your system check, tapped you into the queue. I hear you have a special request? Need to set up another dance here in my cosmos of groove?” 

"Zero... I need access to the Rogue Isles. Today." 

She's never been good at saying things from sixteen different directions to cover sixteen different agendas. Still, it's blunt even for her. Zero laughs at her, a warm sound. 

”Say, woah! You know I love you girl, I really do! You're always aces in my book! But come on; the Isles of Rogues? The Land of Recluse?! I got a reputation to keep, you know. I’ve got a hard enough time explaining to Longbow where most of your hero-in-training friends get their drinks!” He starts counting on his fingers, before giving her a slick smile. "You've got to know my dance card is always full.” 

”You expect me to believe that? You were awfully willing to send me in when it was your floating threads on the line.” Her only card; Snaptooth. He'd been desperate then. He owes her for that. 

”Hey, if I had time to plan this little party, maybe run a few things past my event coordinators...”

"There's no time." She runs a hand through her hair, tangling the short silk. "Zero, I need this favor." 

He leans forward which is an odd motion for a man without his feet on the floor. A part of her wonders how he does it. “Favors are asking if I’ll have the sound techs change the night’s playlist! What you’re asking me to do is remix all the rules, to remaster my harmony! You can’t just expect me to risk it all, even for one as groovy as you.” He kisses his fingers and she grits her teeth. 

”I’m not asking you to.. remaster anything, Zero." She remembers now why she hates talking to him. It's like wading through technicolor sewage. "There must be something I can do to make it worth your...remix." 

It's not her imagination that his eyes sharpen. Interest flickers across his mobile face like a shadow. 

”As I said, I love you! You always seem to bring such tricked out tales with you when you come in! And for Pocket D to be the place to be, I am going to need to do more…. but who has time these days!” 

"Today, Zero. As soon as you can arrange it, I need a portal to the Isles. Tell what what it's going to take.” 

Zero shakes his head. “I’m not trying to play hard to get, but I can’t just dance to every tune that one of my patrons want to play! You got to see it from my angle, not everyone can get their request granted.” 

"But you grant them. You love having people owe you things." 

Suddenly he smiles, like she's passed some sort of test. “You’ve got me. But before I can consider your songlist,” he holds up one slim finger and winks, “maybe we need to talk retail.” 

_ Yes. _ "Name it already." 

”But what would make it all worth while?" She's about ready to cry with frustration as Zero inspects his fingernails. "What could I gain? I can already dance with both angels and demons, what more is there? Do I dream the impossible dream, go for broke, and quote other tired old clichés? Or do I look right in the eyes of those buzzkills in Arachnos and Longbow and say ‘nyah!’?” 

She can feel her shoulders tensing. "My opinion? Go for 'nyah'. You know you want to." 

More laughter is her response. “Well, it seems you know me better than you think!” the man says. Without warning he claps his hands again, leaning forward again with an eager expression. "So. Stasis Kiss would owe me a favor. So young, but not so many like you, yes? I can think of..." He waves a hand as if to brush a fly away. "No matter. I am sure something will occur. Yes, yes. Young but rising. Let me think. Passage for one..." 

"Five." She thinks. She hopes. 

That finally earns them an expression of surprise. “Whoa, ho! FIVE?!! What, am I booking island cruises now?” 

”Zero, if this were a vacation, I’d have my swimsuit on.” 

He crows. “Aww, Stasis! I guess those witty banter classes really are paying off! Why not, then! Five passages for five favors! That should do nicely!” 

"Not going to happen." She rocks back on her heels, takes a deep breath. "I'm worth more than you're offering." 

Zero smiles and capitulates without argument. More than anything else that makes her uneasy. “I guess you’re right; too much tempo, not enough bass! Since you can’t be held to my beck and call for that much, I suppose I should ask for something with more volume! Something more... tangible!” 

Okay. That really doesn't sound good at all. She eyes him warily, floating there. 

"What kind of  _ tangible _ did you have in mind?" 

The magician brings a knee up, locks his fingers around it. She really doesn't like the expression of avarice in his eyes. She likes even less the next words out of his mouth.


	20. On The Way Out

It's not like she hasn't done this a hundred times before. 

Problem is, it's never been this important before. She's trying really hard not to think about it. 

At her back she can feel the pressure as they all pile through the club doors, deja vu of earlier. She's been point so often she doesn't have to look to know how they've arrayed themselves behind her. The tactical map of it shows like lights in her mind even though this is just Pocket D, just a dance club, no danger here worse than ordering too many drinks and being escorted to the door. 

This has to be the worst part. Nothing started but everything about to, the terrible prickling feeling of uncertainty. Under the concealing cloak the unfamiliar clothing chafes against her shoulders. She feels silly in it but really, what choice was there? For one thing the suits wouldn’t have fit her at all, too thin through the shoulders and the idea of passing herself off as a Consigliere is laughable at best. At least this one mostly fits although how she's going to fight in it, she's not exactly sure. 

Stasis blow the hair out of her eyes and tries to settle the butterflies. This will work because it has to work. It's busier in here now, not wall to wall but they have to skirt groups of people inside the first bar. She can feel the familiar teeth clenching panic kick in. She ignores that too. 

At her side Jade is a silent shadow of himself. His chosen disguise is not so different from his gi really, but the alien cut makes him seem strange. She has to keep looking out of the corner of her eye to make sure it's really him, he is so quiet. He looks so tired. 

She shakes her head. She cannot imagine anyone else at her left hand. 

"Guys, stay here. We'll be back in a few minutes." 

Barrier just nods, having been point many times herself. She moves easily into the position Stasis vacates, her green skin shining near black under some of the lights. 

"C'mon Stasi, let me come! I can make the guy see sense." Detective again, impatient enough for all of them. For his Isles disguise he's chosen his black gear, slicked his hair back like a mock gangster. Under the tee shirt the tattoos writhe up his arms, calling attention to their hard planes. He looks bad ass enough but the expression on his face is eager, like a child with a new toy. It’s really the gun strapped across his back belies that though, its silver edges showing mute evidence of hard usage. 

Detective is their ace in the hole, their chaos-maker. No matter what they run across he can handle it. 

She hopes. 

"Detective. No." She smiles because she has to. "Stay here and flirt with something, you know you want to. Let me and Jade take care of it." 

She runs a hand through her hair and turns but Jade is already moving and she has to stretch her legs to catch up. "Damn it, Rooster," she mutters under her breath, "wait up already. Remember that togetherness stuff." If he hears he doesn't acknowledge but she manages to catch him before he gets too far away. 

Almost as one they mount the stairs that lead to their target, pushing their way through the crowd. It's crowded here and she hates it; she hates touching people she doesn't know, hates being bombarded by all the noise and motion. She grits her teeth and takes it though, clumsily trying to follow Jade's smoothly moving form. He finds the spaces that don't exist here, slides into them like quicksilver. 

He is the one that finds the clear space at the center and as she comes up behind his shoulder, DJ Zero is already beckoning them in. 

She's prepared when the force bubble snaps up, cutting them off from reality. If Jade feels anything he doesn't show it. 

"Stasis Kiss.. and the peerless Jade Rooster this time!" She casts a started look at the impassive face of Rooster. Do they know each other? No time for that question though. "Ready to spin the play, my friends? You know I've got the dial." 

"We're ready, Zero. You have the key?" 

"Right here!" He spins something in his long fingers, something like a needle, something like a chain. "Sequenced and rocking, this will take you where you need to go and back again. Just once, like the fairy tale! 

He dangles it from one hand, letting it catch the diffused light. "So listen up, dolls and molls! This is a house special, one of a kind, the only pressing in existence! A hole between us and them, for you. Five in, five out, that's the deal." 

"Ayuh, Zero. That's the deal." He's laughing at her now and the gleam in his eyes makes her tighten her hands. No help for it of course. She'll stand by her end. 

"Then let the good times roll, my friends! Good luck!" 

He flips it at her then unexpectedly, a brilliant spear. She blinks but before she can even react Jade is there, interposing his body between them. He snaps the key out of the air so that it swings from his fist. 

DJ Zero claps. 

"So quick, Jade Rooster, so high fidelity! I can see that rumor does not exaggerate!" 

Jade casts an uncertain look over his shoulder but she has to grin, then laugh. She claps too then. 

"Well done, Rooster! Fastest in the west, ayuh!" 

He turns then, the hair falling across his forehead. She holds up one hand to hold the question in his eyes. 

"You keep it. I'll be busy doing other things and you keep your head better." 

It's such a blatent lie that he grins, a shadow of himself for a moment. He pulls the chain over his head, tucks the deadly point of the key under the stiff cloth. Stasis takes that moment of distraction to step forward. 

"Okay, Zero. Thanks." With suddenly stiff fingers she unpins the metal from her shoulder and hands it over. Too fast for Jade, who didn't know she was going to do this. First part of the payment. 

"Stasis!" His hand grabs her arm, too late. Without her armor she can feel the strength in his fingers. 

"Sorry Jade. It's... security." 

Her med badge looks so strange in the magician's fingers, spinning like the key from a moment ago. DJ Zero flips it up in a smooth arc and then it's gone, vanished somewhere.

_ "Tara!" _

"A pleasure, Stasis Kiss. You know I look forward to seeing you again." For the first time his words are formal, ironic. He bows at the waist and waves a lazy hand. The force bubble drops and noise crashes over them in a wave. The meaning is obvious. 

She turns on one heel, accepting the dismissal. She doesn't breathe again though until she feels Jade's angry presence at her shoulder. 

Thankfully it's loud enough that she doesn't have to try and explain herself. If she's lucky, they'll be too busy for hours before she has to get to that part. 

Hopefully by then he'll be calmed down. 

____ 

 

Walking across the dance floor in their borrowed clothing, it felt like eyes were boring into the backs of their necks. Not true of course. But the feeling was hard to shake as they made their way casually through the party crowd to the Rogue access portals. They blended well enough; well, everybody except for Barrier but even she didn't attract that much comment as they slipped through. Pocket D served all sorts. 

They were just stepping off the edge of the dance floor when the music skipped a beat. The dancers lost their step but quickly regained it. 

Rooster glanced up at the speakers, high above his head. “Bad omen?” he asked. No one replied. If it was an omen, nobody wanted to acknowledge it. 

A moment later though it happened again. The song skipped, once, twice and then stopped entirely. Silence flooded in across the club as the dancers stumbled to an awkward halt. The murmur of voices became louder as people started to jeer at the sound booth. 

Glancing back they could see DJ Zero gesturing angrily at someone. Bar security was already making its way across the floor. Over the active equipment an argument could be heard; sound technicians shouting at someone. A click shot out over the speaker system like a bullet and now the argument was amplified, projected through the club on every speaker. 

“Get your hands off that, you idiot!” That was one of the sound techs. There was the sound of a struggle. The crowd grew restless, everyone staring around at each other. Were they supposed to do something? 

Another sounded like he was in pain. “Security,” he said weakly. The sounds of the struggle got louder, and something must have brushed against the microphone. 

A third voice came over the system. “I jus’ need ta— papa yo, let go a me!” the voice said, interrupted only by the continued fight for the microphone. There was a low thud, the sound of a man collapsing. Then silence for a moment. And then, over the system: “Tara? I know yuh here, gyul. Yuh bes’ not tink yuh doin’ dis wit’out sayin’ nothin’.” 

The assembled students looked at each other in confusion save for one. It was Stasis Kiss who turned towards the booth, flushing hotly. Embarrassed and yet something else, too. Infuriating boy. She'd left him sleeping, he shouldn't  _ be _ here. She almost turned away, to move everyone to the portals but instead she found herself raising a traitor hand to wave towards the booth. 

“Over here! Jai!” She felt dozens of people look at her. She tried very hard not to care. 

“Tara!” came his reply loudly over the speakers. The sounds of his footsteps faded away from the microphone. One of the sound techs cursed, shockingly loud over the silence and then the music resumed. After just a few seconds it was as if nothing had ever happened. People lost interest in the scuffle, the voices. The dancers turned back to their partners and started grooving again. 

Stasis watched him vault from one side of the club to the other, his feet only clearing Zero’s head by inches. The DJ scowled but went back to his own world by the time Jai landed in front of them. In front of her. He looked at each of the assembled students in turn. “Wat yuh tink, goin’ off wit’out me?” 

“Ginga,” Barrier said, stepping forward. “We need a small group. And no offense, but we have Rooster here to cover our asses and he can take care of himself. You can't. This isn’t a field trip.” 

Jai frowned. It was obvious he didn't want to understand. “Yuh goin’ aftuh Miss O’Sull’van.” The students nodded. He thought about it a moment then smiled sideways, turning his head to Stasis. “Dat why yuh snuck out on me? Yuh tink I wouldn’ let yuh go?” 

Stasis nodded, feeling unaccountably guilty. She shook off the feeling almost angrily. “Jai, you would have followed me. Ayuh, you did follow me!” She punched him in the shoulder. 

Rooster caught Ginga’s eye with a look. “Will you tell her that it’s suicide to go without her med-badge?” He looked scared, exasperated. 

Jai turned back to Tara but she was already talking, her hands raising in slim placation. “No, Jai. Don’t. Zero wouldn’t let us go without a trade. It had to happen. And there’s no way I’m staying behind.” 

She expected a fight, a comment about a silly sometimey gyul and an argument and her shoulders were already tensing for it. But he just smiled and nodded. “Fuh certain. I trus' yuh know wat yuh doin'.” 

Stasis blinked. She had won without a fight? The world was going to stand on its head in a minute. 

The carib boy regarded the assembled students. “Yuh gon’ be careful, yeh? Good luck, brin' da gyul back ta school safe.” Barrier gave him a thumbs up and smile. 

Jai turned and looked at Stasis. Then she felt her cool hands surrounded by his, held tight. “An’ yuh gon’ be especially careful, neh?” She looked down at him from that slight distance and nodded. 

That was all the warning she had as he shifted closer, his dark eyes intent. Then his lips were on hers, warm and sweet. 

She felt panic for a moment but she didn't, couldn’t pull away. Jai, this was Jai. She'd pulled away once and nearly broken something between them. 

That fear was there in the kiss, desire. She felt as frozen as her ice in that moment, something unknown and frightening moving under her heart. He stilled tasted vaguely like rum. 

Tentatively his hands moved from hers to slide up her arms. His touch was electricity as hands paused on her shoulders, then the fingers of one hand curling around the back of her neck to find purchase in her close-cropped hair. 

It occurred to her that at some point, he had stopped kissing her. Her eyes had closed somewhere and she was kissing him back, almost defiantly. Just like Jai to do this where she couldn't possibly run away. 

Then Barrier whistled through her teeth. That ended it; Stasis pulled away and blinked, turning to uncertainly face Barrier and the others. Her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to tear itself out of her chest. Couldn't seem to stop the crooked grin on her face though, no matter what that said about her, no matter what it meant. Infuriating, wonderful boy. 

She expected Jade’s face to look different. But instead he looked away, a trick of the air running red lightning over his body. Barrier tapped her foot but her answering grin was unmistakable, Detective echoing the look. He winked at her from his advantage of greater height. It was Arrow Wraith though that looked like he was in pain, not meeting her eyes. 

She remembered then, like a flash out of a movie, Kris and Arrow in an embrace that she'd tried so hard not to see. No, she thought, the smile finally slipping from her face. There's no time for this. Kris. 

Barrier finally spoke, breaking the tension. “Saddle up, people.” They nodded. “Time’s a wastin'.” 

Walking up to the portal was like walking up to the eye of God. The lazy colors were nauseating so of course they didn't look, staring instead at each other. This was it. Jade put his hand to the mechanism, using Zero's key to unlock its function. The glow brightened, casting uncertain colors on their faces. 

“Tara,” Ginga said. She turned and looked at him, almost too shy to meet his eyes. But his face was serious. Stern, even. “Fight,” he said simply. “Win.” 

Her breath caught in her throat. Those words. She managed to nod. 

Ginga just watched as they stepped though the portal. Jade was first without even a backward glance, his eyes reflecting crazy colors from the moving surface. Then Barrier, Arrow. Detective went next, his black form settling smoothly into the nexus energy. It flared for him as it hadn't for anyone else, a spark of attraction. 

Looking at Jai, Stasis stepped back into the portal. Even as she felt the energies winding themselves into her hair, tugging at her shoulders she saw him do a strange thing: he put one of his hands to his opposite shoulder and smiled. 

She mimicked the motion, thinking maybe it was some Caribbean thing. Her fingers came to rest on something smooth and hard. She looked down at her shoulder as the world began to swirl, the portal drawing them far away. 

Jai had pinned his med-badge to her.


	21. Petty Theft Is How All Good Stories Start: or Cheer Squad, Ho!

Was she ever going to show up? 

He wasn't worried, really. At least he told himself he wasn't worried, trying not to watch the big clock above the basketball hoop count down towards doom. Mis glanced around the gym again, counting. After Siren, maybe those two and that kid that was kinda lurking in the corner. Maybe. If he was lucky. 

If he wasn't lucky he was next. With Biff and the posse watching. 

He had what, fifteen minutes tops? Twenty? He rubbed his hands together and hunkered forward. Started to mentally review what he'd practiced, trying to figure out what he could manage solo without looking stupid.

A cold wave of apprehension tightened the skin between his shoulder blades. He clued in a half second before hearing Jai's acknowledgement. 

"Gyul?" 

Twisting in his seat he saw Stasis slipping guiltily into place next to Ginga. He grinned in sudden, giddy relief. She'd come. She wasn't going to let him do this by himself. The he did a double take and nearly split his face open when he saw what she was wearing. 

"Ayuh Mis, sorry 'm late. I didn't miss it, did I?" 

Her voice sounded so forlornly hopeful that he almost hated to shake his head in negation. But the best part of the whole thing was Jai's expression. His carib friend reached out and rubbed a fold of red sleeve between his fingers as if to check its authenticity. 

"Plenty of time, Stasi! We're just about to get started." 

Stasis shifted in her seat, her bare leg brushing Jai's. This close he could see the scuff marks on her knees and a rather suspicious looking scrape. "That's what I was afraid you'd say." 

"Sometimey, wat yuh don' wearin' me shirt?" 

Stasis ducked her head. She seemed to suddenly find the calluses on her hands interesting, inspecting them with thorough care. She mumbled something unintelligible under her breath. Mis grinned, watching her breath steam and then dissipate. 

Jai's voice was bemused. "I cyuh hear yuh." He ran a hand down her arm. The black bull on the front of the shirt rippled as she shrugged. Memory supplied the words "Charge!" printed underneath. "Dat why yuh late? Yuh busy borrowin' me tings?" 

Stasis blew the hair out of her eyes and looked up a little defiantly. If she wasn't blushing it was a close cousin. 

"Needed something for luck, Jai. S'only thing I could think of." 

Mis coughed and turned around. Some things he really didn't need to see. 

When something poked his shoulder he figured it was safe again. Sure enough Jai had wrapped an arm around her waist but that seemed to be about it. The poke in the shoulder turned out to be Stasi's foot. 

"Ayuh. Wake up, Mis, coast is clear." She wrinkled her nose at him, obviously trying to disguise nerves. "Can we get this over with already?" 

Mis glanced over to see how Siren was doing. She was pretty close to finished it looked like.


	22. Cheer This

It’s not like crowds in the halls of the SJS were any big deal. Pretty much anything would cause a group to instantly huddle up – somebody sporting a new skirt, juicy gossip, Hloogle remains on the walls. With a weather eye on the floor, she drifted left, intending on a wall hugging slide. 

However, like certain squids of her acquaintance, the mass extruded a pseudopod and pulled her in before she had a chance to protest. 

“Hey, Stasi! Check it out!” 

She knew the voice but couldn’t place the name. Didn’t matter though – suddenly she was rubbing shoulders, being jostled. She swallowed the prickle of panic. She was taller than most which helped. Being able to see always helped. 

“Ayuh? What’s up? We having another dance or something?” She tried to smile. 

Another dance – this time she’d go with Jai. That helped even more. She lost the next few moments in the thought. He would look so good, and she would dress up. Imagined holding his hand. No dancing, no, but mebbe they could… 

“What? Heyla, no pushing!” Somehow she’d ended up right at the front in her distraction. A pink stretch of paper caught her eye. 

...Thunder Cricket, Stasis Kiss, Winged Siren, Misericorde… 

“Say WHAT?” She blurted it out without thinking, thoughts of kissing Jai immediately hitting the ground to be trampled underfoot. 

“You’re gonna make a great cheerleader, Stasis! Go, Flyers!” She wasn’t sure who that was, maybe Sapphire. Somebody got daring and pounded her on the shoulder. 

“I am NOT!” But yeah, that was her name on that silly sheet, right next to Mis’. No. Oh no. No way. That was not supposed to happen. Mis was the one who wanted on that silly squad, she’d just been helping! She squinted at the bright paper but it didn’t magically reassemble into something she liked. 

Stasis Kiss. Cheerleader. She felt like sinking into the ground. 

__ 

She tracked him down in the cafeteria. 

Give the guy credit; he saw her coming and didn’t run. The smile on his face looked a little forced as she stalked up to him in line but he didn’t flinch. He did put the tray down though. No fool, Mis. 

“Hey, Stasi! How you been?” 

She closed the gap in two strides. His hands looked like they maybe wanted to come up. No problem. She could accommodate. 

“Uh. Stasi?” 

The only reason she got the drop on him was because he probably didn’t think she’d do it. But what used to be so difficult to do was now instinct. Energy flared and she thrust her fists out in a hammer strike; aimed at solar plexus and soft tissue. The shockwave alone was enough to push him back a few feet, banging his hip into the counter which was satisfying. 

She didn’t want to hurt him, she didn’t. 

Much. 

“Go, fight, win, huh? Do I LOOK like a cheerleader? Huh?!” People had already gotten out of the line of fire, clearing a small space. She cocked her fists again, just in case. 

“Je-sus, Stasis, don’t be like this. It’s a good thing! We did great and everybody knows it. We like, uh, rock. Go Flyers?” 

“But I don’t WANT to be a cheerleader, Mis! I was just doing it to help you!” Plaintive, unhelpful cry.

He had the grace to look a little guilty. He was in better control than she was, as always – his claws were still retracted. 

It was hard to let go of the pom poms but she did. She was annoyed, not angry. She blew the hair out of her eyes, trying for small words.

“Look, Mis. You’re getting me out of this. I don’t care what you have to do, all right? Just .. get me off that silly list. I am never going to be any sort of cheer anything. Ever.” 

“Comprende, compadre. You want fries with that?” 

“Heyla. No joking. Off. That. List. You’re in with Franky, you can swing it. I’ll be on comm waiting for the good news.” 

She poked a finger into his chest. Really, he was good. He didn’t even flinch at that. 

“Good news, Mis. Got it?” 

“Yeah. I got it.” 

“Good.” 

Pivoted on her heel and got out of there before she said something unfortunate. She’d learned at least that much – always head out on a high note.


	23. The Girl From Ipanema

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: This was not written by me, but my Misericorde's writer. May he forgive me for hanging onto this.

Misericorde hooked low, claws slipping through the harness of the the Malta Operations Engineer in front of him; he swung about in a lazy arc, slinging the surprised mercenary into the wall of the office building with such force that the operative hung from his head in the drywall.

Another operative levelled his rifle at Misericorde, peppering him with fully automatic fire for several seconds, before the hero suddenly vanished from the merc's sights. The merc took two steps back, before bumping into something solid that shifted behind him. He swallowed roughly as he heard a metallic sound, and slowly looked down to see a trio of sharp-looking claws extending just below the groin of his pants.

Ever so slowly, the soldier allowed his weapon fall to the ground.

"Quit playing around, heyla," Stasi growled. Apparently she wasn't in the mood tonight for jokes. The Sapper she had currently engaged was attempting to convince his weapon to target Stasis Kiss through the panoply of icy shields that surrounded her, without much success. With a graceful leap, she raised both hands above her head and brought them down in an overhead smash, ribbons of scarlet energy tracing the attack's descent through the air. The Sapper brought his weapon up to shield himself from the blow.

It didn't work.

Misericorde sighed, sheathed his claws, and grasped the crotch of the soldier's trousers roughly with one hand, taking a step backwards, and jerking the hand back with him in a smooth motion. The mercenary squeaked in pain as his legs were pulled out from beneath him, and he hit the ground hard and face-first.

Mis stepped over his now-unconscious foe, and pulled the other merc from the wall; heightened perceptions told him the Malta operative was still breathing. He heaved the man by his LBV over atop his unconscious team-mate and dusted the dry-wall powder from his gloves. He pulled his hood back, ran a hand through his hair, then settled his goggles atop his head, pulling his face mask down long enough to pop in a stick of gum.

Stasi dragged her opponent over to the pile, then crossed her arms impatiently. "Is this floor clear?" She'd been in a mood for days, and wasn't willing to talk about it. Misericorde knew this was as close to therapy as his friend ever got; he was willing to forgive a lot.

He'd realized, that although they spoke very little during missions, there was a lot of communication that took place even so. They chattered over comms constantly, but missions were business, and talk was at a minimum.

Misericorde cocked his head as though listening; he stopped chewing for a moment, then spoke. "Yup." He nodded, as though affirming whatever unspoken confirmation she required.

Mis replaced his hood and goggles, not even bothering to make eye contact with Stasi as he stepped over the three-deep pile of Malta. A second later, and he was at the elevator; already hitting the call button with the flat of his gloved palm as she sauntered around the corner. By the time she reached the doors, he had already disarmed the incendiary device that sat in the elevator lobby. He tossed the detonator into the potted plant, there. Stasi said nothing.

"Ding!" the elevator chimed cheerily. He waited, and the two teens stepped into the elevator simultaneously; silently. The doors slid closed, and the Muzak was set about ten decibels too high for comfort.

"The Girl from Ipanema" was playing over the system inside the elevator.

The two heroes stood side by side, Stasi with her arms crossed, Mis chewing his gum quietly, as the elevator began a near-silent ascent.

Mis began to hum along with the muzak.

A smile cracked her icy exterior. She pursed her lips to keep from laughing; features distorted slightly inside her armor. A fun-house mirror.

Mis appeared to be oblivious, humming along in his red hood, tapping his toe to the music."...the girl from Ip-a-nema goes walking, and..."

The elevator slowed and arrived at the next floor with another cheerful "Ding!"

Mis vanished, then reappeared with a confused Malta grasped by both shoulders; he shoved the Sapper at Stasi, saying "This one's yours!" before vanishing down the hall into the rest of the squad of mercs, laying about effortlessly amongst them.

"He means well," Stasi explained, as she smashed the slightly disoriented soldier square in the goggles, laying him low. She sauntered down the hall and entered the next fray.


	24. A Change In The Weather

Stasis slings the towel around her neck, straightening to her full height. A pair of worn jeans and a grey tank top complete the rest of her outfit, loose enough to be comfortable, tight enough not to catch on anything if she has to move. She's already got her swimsuit on underneath. It's not that far to the pool so she decides on the spur of the moment to go barefoot. 

"It's Jade's." 

Kris' expression is somewhat uncertain. "Kali Jade?" her red headed roommate says tentatively. Stasis shakes her head. 

"Jade Rooster." 

"StaSIS! Rooster?! HERE?!" That's Lucky from her corner, her eyes wide. 

She frowns. 

"Ayuh, Rooster. I can't watch him if he's dorming in the boy's wing. I'm sure as anything not sleeping with him in the same room as Detective!" 

"Sleeping...? Stasis! He's ... he's..." 

"He's what?" 

"He's a guy! In our QUAD!" Lucky seemed to be having serious issues with this, something that Stasis was totally not prepared for. What was the problem here? Kris didn't look too happy either for that matter. 

"Look. He's sleeping on the floor for now. Think of him more like a large dog, if that helps." She felt a little guilty with that comparison, but Rooster wasn't there to argue about it. "What, so it's against the rules. It's not like we haven't broken a few before this. Besides, it's necessary." 

His eyes, so fierce, half crazy with exhaustion. She could all but see the shadows forming behind him, threatening to take him away. No. That was not permitted. She'd kill before she'd let that happen again. 

"No. No way, nuh uh, not having a guy in our dorm!" Lucky was up on her knees on her bed now. 

Blind anger is suddenly a wash of copper under her tongue. "Look, Lucky. Kris too. I'm only gonna say this once. I am not leaving Rooster to wander around on his own when he's got assassins poised at his back! Just. Not. Happening!" 

Protect. Guard. Whatever it took. Her shoulders tightened as her breath started to steam gently. "You can like it, or lump it, but Q5 is the only place I can think of that's remotely safe because we're in it. We are in it!" 

She glares at both of them, feeling suddenly betrayed. 

"I'm going to have my swim now. We can argue about this when I get back. Rooster stays." 

She can feel the ice cracking in her hair as she stalks out the door.

 

* * *

 

 

The words hit her like individual blows. She feels them like daggers in her back, the ones that she imagined for Jade, feels them sink in and twist. 

A friend's voice to drive them. 

She takes one more step, two, then stops in the center of the hallway even as Kris' voice trails away. Her fingers flex without thought. 

Whore. 

Stasis turns then, pivots on one slow heel. She doesn't even see the shocked looks around her, the faces just blurs in the corners of her eyes. 

"What?" 

Kris' face is pale but determined. "You didn't even  _ ask _ , Stasis!" 

She cocks her head slowly as if she's thinking about it, although she isn't. "I didn't think I had to. We are Q5." 

"Q5 is not one person! I'm part of this quad and I'm not having Rooster dorm with us, I'm just not!" 

She can hear the explosion of whispering, shaking through the assembling girls like a windstorm. Over Kris' shoulder she can see the pale face of Lucky peeking out from behind the door. 

"What did you mean... made to trust Rooster?" That phrase catches on something unyielding and she takes one step back towards her quadmate, a sliding unreal motion. "I trust Rooster. I trust him with everything." 

Kris' chin jerks up at that but she holds her ground, color flooding her face. "Well,  _ I _ don't! You can't just keep doing this, Stasi!" Kris' hands are balled into fists. This is the first time she's ever stood up to her friend, ever questioned the unthinking idol worship. It feels strange to both of them. "You can't keep making these decisions without us!" 

Stasis breathes out, feels the wire tension run across her shoulders, down her spine. She shakes her head as arctic fog swirls, then dissipates. She is in control of this. She doesn't need armor. 

"At least I make them. I'm not the one waiting around to be rescued, after all." 

The look of shock on Kris' face is curiously satisfying. She flexes her fingers again, straightens from the instinctive drop into a fighter's crouch. She's not going to fight. She doesn't have to. 

"We can argue later if you want, Kris. I told you; Rooster  _ stays _ . Right now I'm having my swim." 

The last thing she sees is the tears in Kris' eyes.

 

* * *

 

The water is as warm as summer grass as she dives in. 

The pool is deserted; she is alone here. She's grateful for that in the place that can still think of these things. She doesn't want to be seen with tears on her face.

_ You can't make these decisions without us!  _

But she can, she does, every day she stands at the front line and she is the one to decide when, how. She did the right thing, the only thing. She has to have him safe, beyond anything else he has to be protected. She will protect. It is what she  _ does _ , who she  _ is _ . 

His face burns in her mind as she pulls herself clumsily through the resistance. Half fear, half exultation, the raw look in his eyes. He is more important than breathing, more important than almost anything. She can't lose him, she just can't. He promised! 

_ I won't look like some sort of whore!  _

She's crying with frustration, shoulders bunching with the strain. How could Kris say those things? In front of everybody, all those faces turning to look, to stare, all them of them whispering behind their hands. It'll be all over the school by tonight  _ Jade Rooster's sleeping in Q5, did you hear? _ when it was nothing like that, would never be anything like that, no matter what they thought, what they gossiped, no matter how jealous they were. 

She brought him there to be  _ safe _ . Why couldn't Kris understand that? Where they could all watch the shadows, find the enemy, make the battle line where  _ they _ chose and not where their enemies would have it be. 

The betrayal is so strong that she chokes on it. 

_ We are Q5.  _

She'd thought it was an absolute truth. Had said it like it was but it wasn't anymore, it just wasn't. Lish had died and taken it all away, all of it falling apart, like sand through her fingers. How could Kris even think that about her? Jade could get  _ expelled _ , such a serious infraction of the rules and Kris should have known better than to say anything, should have  _ trusted _ in her! 

She kicks further under the water, feeling despair building like a thundercloud.  _ It's all coming apart. _ Too many ears listening, none of them her friends, the rift in Q5 exposed like an ugly wound. Her angry hands touch concrete and she spins, thrusting away from the edge, pushing down to the bottom. 

Jai will hear. The sick feeling under her heart explodes.  _ Jai will hear it and wonder about Rooster and he won't understand, he doesn't understand about Jade, he's never understood and he'll ask me questions I can never seem to answer and he'll walk away and he'll never come back.  _

Everything locks up and almost at the surface she loses her balance, swallows water in a panicked, reflexive gulp. 

She's drowning. Green shot light instead of darkness but there is water in her mouth, wrapping fingers around her throat and she's dying again, falling again. Afraid again. 

Everything flashes to white. Ice seals her mouth, her eyes, encases her body in a last, futile rejection. A half a mile of fear, held in suspension like a mermaid. Dying. 

Dead. Fooling herself to think that she had a chance at anything else. 

_ But I don't want to be dead. _ The traitor thought has no force though, no reality at all. She hears the ice sighing, shifting around her, whispering to itself of cold satisfaction.  _ They should have never taken me out of the river. _

There is no more water to breathe, she's taken it all. Only stasis at the core again. Only the cold. 

Jai, with his hands so full of warm life. 

She'd cry if she could remember how. 

_ Whump. _

Something shakes, the ice screams softly. 

_ Whump. Whump. _

Something shatters between her shoulder blades. Pain is a sudden brand as ice buries itself in shards across her skin. She reacts without thinking, power flaring in her fists. The expansion destroys yet more of her prison. 

"Mother! Can you hear me?" 

She pulls her arms in, realizing that they can move, she can move. She lifts her head even as the ice rocks again in another rumbling quake. 

She registers that her eyes are open, ice clinging to the lashes. Legs, green and brown. Stone armor. 

"Barrier." Her voice doesn't even sound like hers. "What..?" 

"Hang on, I've almost got you out." Crouched on the top of the ice, Barrier cocks another fist back and once again things break. "What did you think you were doing? Wrecking the pool." 

"I..." 

Barrier leans down then and grabs her by the forearms. The ice is crazy cracked and with a heave, she is free. 

"Woah, steady!" Barrier wraps an arm around her waist as she sways. "I don't need you to dive back in again so soon." 

Stasis looks around, blinking. 

The pool is a sheet of glass from one side to the other. Only the gaping hole at her feet shows anything other than that accusing mirror. 

She must have made some noise of protest because Barrier pulls her into a rough, one handed hug. "You okay? That ain't like you to lose control, Mother." The team captain looks around, her eyes thoughtful. "Good thing nobody else was in here. What a mess." 

All those people who died, once upon a time. Kris' words, driving into her heart. The look that will be in Jai's eyes. 

As easily as that she is crying again. No sound, just tears falling. Barrier doesn't seem to notice, her face turned away. 

Stasis pulls away, out of the comforting brace and starts to walk across the ice without a word. The tears freeze on her cheeks, like diamonds. 

She is Stasis. She has always been Stasis. 

She will never be anything else. 

She was a fool to believe even for a minute that it could be anything else.


	25. D.A.R.E.

She'd been so absorbed in the daydream that when the bell rang, she nearly yelped in surprise. 

She looked around guiltily but nobody seemed to have noticed; grabbing books, standing, talking. The Sister was saying something about whatever chapter they were supposed to read for next class but nobody was paying any attention to that either. 

She looked out the window but saw only the manicured common grounds, statues that didn't move and trees that grew in proper orientation to their gravity. The sky was back to being relentlessly, boring blue again. 

Just St. Joseph's, just another day of struggling to understand things that made no sense. Who cared to read about some guy that lived four hundred years ago? She didn't, that's for sure. 

She swept her books into her arms and strode out of the classroom, feeling suddenly stupid. 

She'd been daydreaming about Jai. She hadn't seen him in so long, with not even a note to say where he'd gone or why. Nobody would tell her either; he wasn't in any of his classes, his roommate Misericorde didn't know where he was. If anyone would know, Mis would and Mis would have told her. He was good about stuff like that, even the stuff that hurt. Maybe especially the stuff that hurt. 

She didn't think he was... gone, gone. Just maybe missing. When somebody went missing nobody would say anything, that was how it worked and since nobody was saying anything, it sort of stood to reason. She'd tried to ask at the office but Miss Sinclair couldn't or wouldn't tell her anything. Jai Marchan had been given leave from the school and that's all that Gemini would say. She'd left more frustrated than when she'd walked in. 

She hadn't realised how much she missed him either until Kali had taken them to Firebase Zulu the day before. Standing there, with a hundred years of ozone heavy in the air, pale lightning on the horizon... she'd suddenly wanted to cry. 

Jai would have loved it. He would have stood with her on the upthrust fingers of stone, balanced and sure as he always was. They would have held hands and laughed. 

She wanted so much to watch the suicide colors play in his eyes. So far down in Zulu that forever was meaningless. Jai would have understood. Kali and Seraph were good friends, but they didn't know, not all the way. Not the way her vaudun boy did. 

Mis had laughed, of course, when she'd told him about it, about wanting to take Jai into that dangerous place.  _ He's from Trinidad, Stasi, and Zulus are from Africa _ . He'd poked her in the shoulder and made her angry. Mis was like that too. Sometimes he could say the stupidest things. 

The lock combination spun under her fingers and she dumped her books on the middle shelf. Maybe she'd go down to the cafeteria and buy a sandwich. It was nice outside; she could eat it on the lawn. 

"Ready, Stasis?" 

This time she did yelp, slamming the locker door shut. 

"William! Don't.. don't  _ scare _ me like that." Her eyes were wide, she could feel it. Her new friend had already taken a half step back. 

William cocked his head to one side, unsure. "Did you forget we were going to study during lunch?" 

She blinked and then groaned. "Oh, man! Was that today?" 

And she had forgotten. She'd met William last week when she'd lost her homework and he'd stayed after class to help her look for it. They sat and talked afterwards and when she'd confessed she was terrible at math, he'd offered to help with that too. For a little bit she'd kinda hoped that meant he'd do it for her, but no, it just meant he was going to teach her to do it for herself. 

Why  _ didn't _ anybody offer to do her homework? She was stuck with Mimi's and it just wasn't fair. 

William was still looking at her uncertainly though. She blew the hair out of her eyes and smiled weakly. 

"I guess rescheduling is a bad idea, heyla?" 

He smiled back though, his normally serious expression lightening. "Very bad. Passing grade by summer, remember?" 

"Right." She sighed dramatically and was rewarded with a slightly bigger grin. "Okay, let me grab my stuff." 

But her stuff wasn't there. She searched both shelves and started rummaging at the bottom, shoving aside the second set of boots, a broken umbrella and a backpack she never managed to take back to the quad. 

"Stasis?" She tried the second shelf again. "Did you lose something?" She went back to the top shelf, but there was nothing there but an impressive set of dust bunnies. "Can I help?" 

"Ayuh, William! I can't find my pencil case. I must have lost it somewhere." It had her calculator and stuff in it too, a pebble from a certain beach in Striga and a ticket stub for a movie. She put her hands on her hips and glared at the offending locker. "It's just not here." 

"Where did you see it last?" 

"In class. William! I must have left it in my last class. I grabbed all my stuff but maybe it fell on the floor. C'mon." 

She banged the locker shut and took three steps. Turned around and went back to spin the combination closed and then charged off again, the bemused William in tow. 

Chattering away, she took a corner at speed and actually barrelled into a trio of kids. "Sorry!" she said over her shoulder, not recognising any of them. "My fault!" 

It was William that noticed that something wasn't quite right, maybe because he was following behind but probably more because he was just more observant than Stasi. The three guys were staring after the disappearing form of the tanker girl, but not in a good way. There was an intensity there he didn't like but they weren't moving or anything so he sidestepped around them, offering his own quiet apology. 

He was never sure afterwards why, but he looked back when he got to the classroom door that Stasis had entered. It gave him a few seconds warning. 

"Stasis!" 

His friend was was bending over a desk, her plaid skirt a dangerous molecule away from overexposure but the crow of delight said everything. 

"Found it, William! Stupid thing was under the radiator." She straightened up, cheek flushed and holding her pencil case triumphantly. "I rock." 

"Stasis, this is not good!" 

William was already backing away from the door, raising his hands defensively. He was just barely out of the way when the first of the kids that Stasis had run into came in behind him. 

The guy was moving all funny, stiff legged and jerky. He walked into the class with his fists balled even as William backed up a little more. He wasn't even that big but he was acting like he was ten feet tall, starting to advance on the smaller boy. But it wasn't until his two friends came in behind him though that she realised something really wasn't right. 

Their eyes were glowing, leaving tiny tracers of yellow as they swung their heads to orient on the two friends. It was eerie. 

"Uh. Hey, guys. Sorry about bumping into you." She put her pencil case down carefully and brought her hands up in mimicry of William's hasty position. "I'm totally sorry. Lemme buy you a drink?" She grinned weakly as the movie line came up to her lips. 

The answer was swift. The first guy picked up a desk and threw it at her. 

She was on the ground before she realised it, shattered glass sprinkling her clothes. 

"Stasis!" 

She scrambled to her feet, ignoring a sudden pain in her shoulder. She'd caught at least part of it in the desperate dive to the floor. She had a brief glimpse of William dodging around the teacher's desk as two of them charged for his position. Bits of paper bounced off the surface as he tried to focus his telekinetic powers. 

The first guy was still coming for her though and she lost track of her friend as she had to dive again to the side. She threw up a hand and tried to catch her attacker in ice. No go. The air swirled with frost but she'd missed and she had to scramble away again. Something crashed into a wall over her head. 

"One is down!" William's cry of victory jerked her head up and she was treated to sight of him standing on the teacher's station, one hand still extended. One of the trio was out, she could only see his shoes. 

"Behind you!" Too late. The second guy was on William, tackling him to the desk, punching. Paper and books flew everywhere as the smaller kid tried to fight off the larger. In horror she saw hands wrap around William's throat. 

This time she had a clear shot. Ice flew from her fingers in razor shards. 

Something large hit her in the back. She was on the ground again, trying desperately to breathe. She rolled over on her back. 

He was standing over top of her, his face twisted in a rictus of rage. He grabbed another desk and brought it up, even as she tried pull the ice out of the air, encase him in it. She was near sobbing with the strain, her mind clumsy and slow. She almost had it. 

A distortion ripped through the air, hit her aggressor in the chest. He stumbled back and then fell, howling. Impossibly William was there, grabbing her arms, pulling her up. She couldn't help the hiss of pain as he yanked on her damaged shoulder. 

"Easy on!" 

"We've got to leave!" William's face was scared. So was hers. They both looked around at the destroyed classroom. The one she'd pegged with the ice lance nowhere to be seen but the other two were already starting to get up again. 

She grabbed William's hand and they ran for the door. 

Chaos met their eyes in the hallway. There were kids running everywhere. One boy had another in a headlock, dragging him along. Stasis raised a hand, but then realised the one in control didn't have yellow eyes. She looked around in a daze.

"Stasis, we have to lock the door!" William's hand dropped from hers and he whirled, hanging onto the doorhandle. "We can't let them out!" 

One of Mis' favorite phrases sprang to her lips. He was right. She looked through the glass, saw two pairs of eyes starting to advance and actually said it. 

She put her hands on the door and called for ice. This time there was no haze to contend with and William yanked his hands away. The rime solidfied, inches thick, sealing the hinges and lock. 

"You could have warned me!"

She blew the hair out of her eyes. "Ayuh. William, get your hands off the door. I'm going to make it all chilly." She tried to peer through the glass again but couldn't see anything more than a hazy shadow. A thick sound jolted the ice. Probably somebody trying to pound their way through on the other side. 

Stasi turned and put her back to the door, sliding down to sit. After a moment William did the same, bracing himself on a locker. Together they watched the other kids running in the hallways. Distant yelling could heard. 

She looked over. "Nice shiner." 

"Shiner?" 

"Your eye. You always start fights by putting your face into somebody's fist? Because that's the wrong way to do it, trust me." She grinned crookedly as her friend raised a tentative hand. 

William smiled a bemused smile as his fingers explored his face, she smiled back and then they were both laughing hard enough to hurt. She wrapped her fingers around her ribs, letting the aftershock shake her body. Eventually though she wiped away the tears of release and settled herself more firmly against the door. The pain in her shoulder had settled to a dull throb. Probably just dislocated. Another thump jarred her between the shoulderblades. 

"Pipe down in there!" she yelled. 

"Oh. They'll just crawl out the windows when they figure out they can't get through the door. I'd better go... " 

She leaned forward and snagged him by a leg as he tried to get up. "They're not going anywhere, relax." 

"What do you mean?" 

She rapped the ice with the knuckles of one hand. "Because I'm here. 'S my ice, this stuff and I'm channeling through it. They know I'm on the other side and they'll keep throwing themselves at this door until they can get to me. No worries." The door shook again as if in answer. William shook his head but sat back down again. 

After a minute he said, "Do you think we should go help everyone else?" He was still touching his eye, as if he couldn't believe he'd been hit. 

She pursed her hips and thought for a second. The guy in the headlock was long gone. "Neh. Let them catch their own. We've got ours." 

When William looked at her in astonishment, she gave him the thumbsup. 

"Better than doing math, trust me."


	26. Of Things To Come/Future Imperfect

"Kiss?"

He's a half dozen meters ahead, crouching next to a hulking mass of metal. Probably an overturned truck, maybe even the leftover remnants of a Titan. It's kind of hard to tell with the rust and overgrowth, not that it really matters. 

"Yeah?"

"I think I've got something."

Something in the way he says it this time, comm crackling in my ear, tightens my gut. Damn it. Five days we've been crawling over this sector, one shattered street at a time and so far we've been lucky enough not to find anything larger or badder than us. I guess it was too much to expect it was going to stay that way.

"You don't say. What you got, Bandaid? More dogs?" Yeah, that's me. Eternal optimist.

Nearly a week on bait patrol has given the greenie this much; he's got his head down and he's not peering around like a prairie rat just waiting to get shot. The scanner in his hands is waving slowly, trying to get a better fix on whatever it's found. Sniffing.

"Nah, Kiss, I really got something this time. We've got action two, two fifty south of us. I got spikes in the twenties."

I start picking my way up to where he is, ignoring the the deep ache in my leg. With the armor on nothing heals like it used to. 

"Say again?"

My own damned fault, this time. Misjudged the terrain like a damned rookie, sliding into a pit when a section of street gave way, hollowed out forever ago by whatever concussive force broke the buildings. Took us an hour to get me back up again, both of us sweating and swearing by the end.

That was three days ago and at least I'm not limping anymore. Not running either which is why Bandaid is point and telling me he's found something to spike his needle when I really didn't want to find anything at all. 

Not for the first time I think about taking off the Crey armor.... but that'd be suicide. Any drones in the area would have me in heartbeat and I'm not willing to bet three minutes of uninterrupted healing that there aren't any lying dormant in the wreckage. That much of an optimist I'm not. 

Ghost carefully up to his shoulder, skirting the rubble and crouch down to look at the numbers myself. Shit. "Somebody's fighting. Somebody's fighting hard."

"We going?" He looks up at me, unsure. Under his helmet Bandaid's young, barely out of his teens and pure human. I keep forgetting what it's like to be that young. Feels like I've been fighting my entire life, what with one thing or another.

"What, you think HQ sent us out here just to map the scenery? We're not packing daisies, you know. C'mon." Tap him on the helmet, just above the little piece of tape that gives him his nickname. "Let's go check it out." 

Brave words. I can feel the presentiment of cold in my bones. 

____

 

Don't let anybody tell you different, there's a real art to walking through the disputed zones. 

I mean, you gotta watch everything. Everything. Don't get me wrong, Rikti can hide damned near anywhere, their shields fooling even the best scanners sometimes. Not the drones though; we don't have to care about them. They'll ignore Bandaid as useless and me.. well, unless I get stupid, the only thing they'll flag me on is ambient temperature and the armor takes care of that. 

No, it's more that you've got to watch that nothing is going to fall on you, drop out from underneath you, or contain a nasty surprise from ten years ago when they were mining the streets to stop the advance. Harry's bunch got themselves smashed when a strip planting went off near what used to be the north end of Kings. Nothing but much left of the entire platoon but what you could scrape together in a baggie. If all I do is fuck up my leg on this run I'll count myself lucky. 

The hotspot on the scanner is our lodestone. Fade and slide through what was probably a nice little commercial area, once upon a million years ago. A shopping mall maybe, who knows. Teenagers and soda pop and sock hops.

A drunkenly leaning sign catches my eye, paint faded into obscurity. The artwork is all but choked with scrubby grass. Something in the shape teases my eye though and I think I could almost remember what it said if I thought about it. A haircutting place maybe, or a restaurant. A piece of faded cloth caught at one edge flaps in a random breeze before settling. 

Funny, what memory can do. The sign, the cloth. His favorite sweater was red, black with a bull's head. For a moment the dust and sweat meld and I can smell spice and lime, taste cool water. For a moment his dark serious eyes swim in front of mine.

Jai Marchan. God I haven't thought of him in years.

Shred the memory almost as fast as it hits me because it's just that - memory, and an old unimportant one at that. Marchan left years ago to go back to Trinidad and his family, before the war even started. An argument, same old story, over something I can barely remember anymore. I don't even know if Trinidad is taken or not, still on the map or not. He's probably not even alive anymore, not if there was fighting. He'd have been front line. 

"We're getting close." Bandaid crouches down, hunkering over the scanner. I follow and for a couple of minutes we stagger advance, using any cover we can find. When the coords hit red he motions us down and we worm into a position to see what we're up against, scraping ourselves up over a tumble of concrete to peer down the slight incline. 

The metal spikes of equipment on his back stick up weirdly, like his helmet grew roots. He's got most of the scanning and communication gear but he's also got the tripod for the weapon I'm carrying. There's still some advantage to not being human even now - Bandaid couldn't have carried this load an hour before collapsing. 

"What the hell is that?"

For a moment I can't answer. I don't believe it. I don't fucking believe it.

Thirty, maybe forty feet away they're fighting.

I haven't seen one of those in ten, maybe twelve years; so long ago it's like another lifetime. The energy is pouring off him in waves as he fights, the Rikti soldiers swarming like ants. Tracers of light like fireflies streak across my vision.

Beautiful. So beautiful.

So fucking doomed.

The massive stone hammer swings, takes a gunner in the side in an explosion of bone. The body careens to the side to join others but there are more, too many more as energy guns splash against his augmented hide. Blood, his and theirs, spatters. 

"....troll."

"What?" 

Clear my throat and try again. "It's a supatroll. What, you never...?" Yeah, I guess he never has. They got taken out fast, at the beginning. "Take a good look, Bandaid. Take a good look and hope t'hell you never see one again." 

The troll screams with fury as another Rikti soldier gets too close and a skull shatters as one massive fist crashes down. He roars with approval, arms cording with effort. He turns and I see that one eye is already gone, lost in the ruin of his face.

Red and black. Ice and pain. The hammer swings up even as we watch and carves a deadly arc in the air in front of the massive body. Nothing dies this time but it's only a matter of time before it's him. He doesn't have much left. 

I'm squirming past Bandaid to slide down the concrete face in front of us. Why? I don't know. The troll is dead. He just hasn't fallen down yet.

"Kiss! What are you doing?" His voice is a sibilant whisper like they're going to hear us. " _ Kiss! _ "

I'm sliding towards level ground in a barely coordinated fall, listening with everything I've got for the whistle that says incoming. The frantic cursing in my ear is suddenly chopped off and the noise behind me is him scrambling to catch up.

Good kid. Stupid, but then again, they don't send you on disputed recon for having all your marbles packed tight.

So what the hell do I think I'm doing?

"History lesson." Is that my voice? Yeah, I think it is. "That's a troll. You capiche 'troll', Bandaid? I'm sure they showed you pictures in Basic." His breath whistles through the comm. "Only this one's hopped up on 'Dyne. Supatroll."

I remember, I remember. Stone gods in their day, pumped up, juiced out, kings of their earth. God in his blasted heaven, I remember.

My brain is freeze framing, grabbing everything I know, everything I see. 

Thing is, superdyne's injected, blood borne. This one must have found an old cache, a hospital not entirely ransacked, a gang's horde, something. Cut himself open, poured the drug into his veins in an lethal dose. I can almost see it. A smashed window, the glass embedded in his skin, opening himself to the invasion. Ampule after ampule, directly into his massive heart.

Lethal dosage because as soon as any of it hit his system he was dead. Couldn't have been more than a half hour ago too. Just long enough for the change to happen, to stagger out into the street, the supernatural energy roiling over his skin calling his enemies to the fight.

Maybe trying to find a way to suicide that feels like it's worth it.

Oddly enough there's no pain in my leg anymore. As soon as I hit a stretch of ground that's long enough, flat enough, has cover enough, I ship the weapon. He's a heartbeat behind but then the maglocks that hold the tripod to his pack webbing release and he's bracing it on the ground even as I crank the pieces together.

"Shit! Kiss? What are we doing?" His whisper is panicked.

"Fighting."

"W _ hy? _ Command just wants us to map this area, report..."

"Shut up. We've got about a minute before drones show up. Less."

Which is true. I'm just surprised they're not here now.

The weapon is so new tech I can almost smell the factory on it. A prototype that's supposed to be able to take out the drone shielding and any patrol with a super on it carries something like it in the half assed hope that maybe it'll do some good if one triggers. 

Since I run recons that usually consists of me and some poor greenie who's in trouble with the brass, I make sure I've always got the latest tech going. It's not like anybody else out here is going to save my ass.

We have the weapon shipped and mounted in thirty seconds which isn't half bad considering Bandaid's probably never done this in the field before. Settle behind, leaning back nearly to the ground with my legs braced to the side, hands to the grips. Low target, just the muzzle pointing out towards the battlefield.

He's swearing under his breath in a high voice, slamming in the payload. 

The supatroll's decimating the Rikti squad. He hasn't seen us, probably doesn't see anything at all. He had to have known, right? Had to have known what he was doing. You don't fall on that many 'dyne needles by accident.

Fucking doomed.

The chilling whine hits my ears like a knife.

"Where?" Bark it out, sighting. Bandaid looks up, his face shiny. Slides the HUD over his eyes. I've been there and I know. His vision is green numbers now, distances, vectors. 

"Mark six niner niner, up and easy!" At least his voice is steady.

Swing the gun and there they are, arrowing in over the horizon, just skimming the rubble. Just two this time, not even going to question that fortune. The first swings wide to survey and I turn to follow, shifting weight. Fucking seekers. Don't even engage the enemy to save their own side until they've assessed and taken the damned data. 

Target down the rear aperture to the sight post. Breathe out. 

The troll destroys the last remaining soldiers like I knew he would. He's not feeling anything, they never did. His bellow of triumph shakes the sky, arms upraised and dripping with blood, thicker things. So furious.

Fire. 

The tracers flare out, looking. Finding my target.

The second drone hasn't hesitated. The snaking advance is suddenly an arrow bright flash in the corner of my eye.

Yet somehow he sees the danger. Energy explodes over his skin as he turns, charges to meet his maker. The stone hammer arcs back to meet the assault. The seeker is firing even as it goes for the kill and green blood explodes. The hammer bounces harmlessly off the shields.

"Up two up, left one! Kiss!"

The first is already finishing its sweep, turning to lock in as well. But this one I have. This one is  _ mine _ .

Flick the sighting, fire again. The world is halo bright.

"Left left two! Acquired!"

The recoil kicks as I fire the main gun, the gyrojet launching. 

Perfect. So perfect. The rocket wakes up halfway to its destination, sensing its mission. The shriek of hyperacceleration rings in my ears even as the rocket enters its murderous spiral.

The drone streaks for the sky but this is its own technology turned back on itself. We stole this from the Rikti. Used what they learned, built the guns that went for the EMP shields without hesitation.

The drone explodes in a roar of blue flame. 

Yes. Oh fuck me,  _ yes _ .

No.

Not destroyed. Damn it. Damn it. It spins the air, listing dangerously to the side but still turning, now reorienting back towards us. Aiming.

"Reload! Damn it John,  _ reload! _ "

"On it, on it!"

He fumbles, frantically feeding the next belt in. I can feel the cold settling in my bones, arctic memory. Everything is clear.

The troll roars, still standing somehow, still undefeated. Rips a chunk of asphalt from the ground and hurls it against his seeker. Power rips crazily down his arms, imbuing the car sized concrete slab with kinetic force. The shields still hold on the drone but they flicker. Another thread of energy lashes out and the troll bellows as it impacts his side.

"Fire!"

And I do. Tracers spin out.

"Acquired!" 

The weapon jerks again with a satisfied movement. The seeker can't dodge this time, too damaged on the first hit. The 'jet takes it square and it spins backwards like a toy.

The explosion is like sex, deep and tight. Shrapnel arcs like a fountain.

"Got it!" That's Bandaid. "We fucking got it!" But I'm already swinging to rough target, feeling the triggers under my thumbs as keen as blades.

"Again, damn it, reload!"

The supatroll. He's swinging around, traitor shrapnel buried deep in side. Deep, so deep. I can see the blood pouring around the wound. Mortal for sure, if that matters.

Oh no, no. He's ignoring the drone in front of him. Turning. The hammer tries to rise. Takes one step towards us.Two.

Forgotten, the seeker rises behind him. Tilts down.

I'm screaming and I don't even know what.

The blood sprays like a decoration. He's on his knees without intervening motion.

Fire.

The tracers streak out. I hear the numbers, rotate the cylinders.

Fire.

Acquired.

Destroy.

He must have done something. He did something because the shields break without hesitation, shatter. The second drone tumbles backwards, out of sight. A heartbeat later flame rises and a deep concussive tremble confirms what I need to know.

On his knees, he sways. Keels over like a slow motion film. Rolls onto his back. I can see the massive chest panting as alien metal pulses obscenely with each breath.

Bandaid is yelling. Cheering. I'm gripping the gun so tight I don't know where I end and it begins.

"... did it, we did it!" Bandaid knocks my helmet, right above where the word KISS is carved in, reminding me always that I hate that name, I've always hated that name. "We fucking got them!" 

It takes hard effort but I release my fingers one at a time, pull back with a tearing sense of loss. Standing up takes more energy than I have.

Listen but I don't hear more. Not yet. Did we get them fast enough? Maybe. Maybe.

I'm walking before I realise what I'm going to do. 

The troll is still making sounds of rage in his throat. His hands are flexing. Still reaching for his hammer, I think. This close I can smell copper, offal, the sharp sizzle of Rikti metal that's almost a taste more than anything else.

I pull my helmet off to run a hand through the short white stubble. My hand is a distant shake.

Have the crazy, insane knowledge that this is Skyway. He's dying and this is Skyway again and I'm the one that killed him, taunted him, made him die while he danced, while others tore his life away.

The memory overlaps this one until vision is superimposed. He glares up at me from then and from now, his eye flaring with hatred, with need. He's not done. He still needs me. Still wants me.

His eye.

His eye.

\-------

_ "Mother?" _

_ "Yeah, Ranger?" _

_ "You know anything about trolls?" _

_ Roll over on my side and stare curiously at her. She's watching the stars it looks like, leaning back on her hands. The grass is cold under my side. _

_ "Well, yeah. Apparently you all smell funny or something." _

_ She doesn't laugh like she's supposed to, looking up. "No. I mean, about what happens." She hesitates. "Supposed to happen." _

_ "Huh?" Prop my head up on one hand. "What do you mean?" _

_ She sits up then, picking some grass between her feet to flick the small threads away. "I mean. I read this, okay? There's some scientist somewhere that says trolls just.. I mean. They just all turn into trolls. Later on." Her skin is dark enough to be black under starlight. I can barely make out her expression. _

_ "Barrier, you're making no sense." And she's not. "Sure you're kind of a troll already. That's sort of indisputable. You got the cute horns and everything. Didn't they figure your dad was some sort of ogre or something?" _

_ "Stasis, don't you read anything they give you for homework?" Her voice is exasperated. I shrug. _

_ "Only when they make me." _

_ Her voice deepens until she doesn't sound like anything, like anybody I know. Like rock would if it had a voice. "Trolls are said to end up all the same. All the same." She shifts a little to look at the sky again, I can just make out her tilting profile. "No boys. No girls. Just the 'dyne mutation taking over everything. At the end they're... we're... just trolls." _

_ Takes a minute but then the sense of it sinks in. I'm already shaking my head, sitting up in a hurry. _

_ "Oh no, Ranger, that's not true. Totally not true. Not gonna happen." _

_ "Yeah? You think?" She looks at me or at least I think she does. "Like you know. You don't even read your homework." _

_ "Don't need to. Barrier, it ain't gonna happen. Trust me on this, okay? You got a little troll in there, sure. But you got freckles and your horns are wrong color and stuff. You even got.., uh, tits. You are not going to turn into some weird thing, honest." _

_ "Yeah? You know this." _

_ "Well, yeah. I know this. Trust me." Reach out and grab her hand, curling my littlest finger around hers. "Totally trust me. Pinky swear. You're a girl and you're always gonna be a girl. Even if you don't like it much." _

_ She laughs then finally, like she's supposed to, and pushes me away. _

_ "Mother, you don't know anything at all." _

_ \------- _

His eye.

 

Her eyes.

"....Saskia?"

There's no recognition there, not anything at all. There's a cold tremble in the pit of my stomach. 

Relief. 

Then I realise it's because he's dull with death, glazed over. Nobody home anymore. No understanding.

No name. 

"Kiss?"

Look down at the dead hulk. Barrier?

"Kiss?"

Take a deep breath and pull my gaze away. "What?"

"Look, we totally kicked ass and everything but can we get out of here now?" He looks excited, freaked out, scared. 

Look around and he's right. The dead Rikti, the sprawled corpse of the supatroll. The flaming wreckage of the two drones. We're sitting targets. We've got to get distance between us and here as fast as possible. This is a demilitarized zone but it's far from fucking empty.

"Yeah. Yeah." Look down once more though, can't help it. There's nothing there though. Just a dead, stupid troll. We're going to be right with him if we don't get moving.

_ Mother, you run the play or you sit on the bench. _

Yeah Ranger, I know. I'm going.

Turn away, back toward the gun. 

Realise even as I walk that Command needs to know. One 'dyne freak could mean more. More power signatures means more drones which means more Rikti activity. Start to move faster. More activity means more need for the grounders, hit and run. This whole zone could light up in a matter of days. 

If my leg hurts still I'm not paying it any attention. 

Leave the troll to cool on his improvised bier, already forgotten. We've got to get out of here. 

There is only one direction anymore and that's forward because looking backward just gets you killed.


	27. Fashion 01

Stasis made her way through the crush to the main gates after last class. 

She’d seriously considered conveniently forgetting to show up. In fact she’d been totally prepared for a complete memory lapse. Only the knowledge that she’d just be delaying the inevitable kept her moving in the right direction. Jase was a pain in the ass once he’d gotten her to agree to something so she might as well get it over with. 

She bit unconsciously at her bottom lip though, wondering just what her friend had in mind. Fix that problem, he'd said. What problem? There was nothing wrong with what she was wearing. So it was a little big. She’d fill out.

Stasi ducked under a couple of guys zooming near the ceiling; half stepped, half hopped over an unknown patch of what might be water but might be something else. At the edge of her hearing she heard laughter, something about Farmer Christmas coming early this year; a quick glance to the side gave her a couple of giggling girls who might or might not be looking in her direction. 

She blew the hair out of her eyes and kept going, pushing her shoulder against the big doors. Could there be something to what Jason had said? She caught herself reaching for a strap that had fallen off her shoulder again. No way. So this wasn’t the height of fashion, so what. That stuff didn’t bother her at all. 

"Ayuh, Jase,” she muttered, her customary stride eating up the steps. “Let's see what this is all about, hey?" She hitched her shoulder to snap the overalls back in place again. And again. 

Just outside the large iron gate that was the entrance to the school, Jason was leaning casually on a long, black Cadillac. He was dressed in loose clothing as normal but there was a difference this time, something she couldn’t put her finger on right away. The loose bronze jacket had sleeves rolled over a shirt that was open enough to show just a hint of sculpted chest. Matching pants of a much darker shade flowed about his legs smoothly. A pale gold thread worked its way along the edge of the shirt collar. He dipped his Revos down the bridge of his nose and smiled at her. That same smile that always seemed to spell trouble. 

Posed, she thought, walking up. Like he’d just escaped from a runway somewhere. He was probably trying to tell her something. 

She grinned at him unrepentant. Ayuh, but he could be a pain. She should tell him he’d left his leash somewhere. 

He moved to the door with a flourish as she sauntered up, opening it for her. She stopped. "Don’t tell me, let me guess. You want me to get in that rusty deathtrap." 

"Yeah. That's normally how you ride in a car." Jason grinned crookedly, leaning on the open door. A slip of gold winked at her from his throat. "I suppose we could strap you the hood if you really want. You can be the newest thing in car accessories." 

"Yeah, yeah. Cute, you." She shrugged an errant strap back into position though and ducked inside. 

To someone who knew these things, the interior had obviously been altered to offer more room, with a discreet division between driver and passenger. Stasi slid across the seat without noticing any of it, Jason ducking in behind her. 

"Nifty, Jase! You never said anything about a limo!" Stasis patted the posh seat, admiring the slick upholstery. Why, you could practically sleep on this. She had the urge to try. 

"It's not a limo, you. It’s a Caddy." 

Stasis glanced around. Stereo, dvd player. A flat screen tv built into the dividing console, what had to be a small fridge tucked to the side. "Ayuh. All this and a driver? Pfft. Limo!" Stasis leaned back in the comfortable leather seat and crossed her arms. Her white grin matched his. 

A short laugh came from the front where an older man in this thirties sat. Even sitting down he looked big, his head turned to look at the pair of them. Muscle corded in his throat and the easy tan of his face was hard to distrust. Pronounced laugh lines ringed his bright blue eyes. Stasi liked him immediately. 

"Oh sure, encourage her!" Jason said and threw his hands up with mock disgust. "How are ya, Doug?" 

The driver turned back to the front and looked through the rear view. "Fine, Jason, just fine. You?" 

"Just great. I'm glad they sent you. Stocked everything per usual?" 

"Yessir.” The man touched a single finger to his eyebrow and gave Stasi a single, slow wink. “Water, fruit juice and sodas, nothing processed, and all alcohol completely removed.” With a gentle ease Doug warmed the Caddy and moved them onto the street, his hands sure on the wheel. “Where to, specifically? The office only gave me general, but I suspect you have something in mind?" Doug's eyes shifted in the rearview to regard Stasis thoughtfully. She stuck her tongue out at him and was rewarded with crinkling of the laugh lines. 

"Yeah. I figured we'd head over to see Valentina. She'll looove Stasi." Jason looked over, and she pulled her tongue back in hastily. From the look in his eye she hadn’t been fast enough. Doug shook his head amused. "By the way Stasi, this is Doug." Jason shrugged then, an odd sliding gesture. "My driver, I guess you could say. Doug, this is my friend Stasi." 

"Heyla, Doug." 

"Nice to meet you, Miss." 

She blinked, knowing she’d missed something but not sure what. This Doug was obviously not ‘just a driver’ but neither of them seemed interested in explaining. No big deal. She could wait til later and tackle Jase about it. 

Before she realized it they had left the residential area that St. Joseph’s was settled in and were soon travelling down the turnpike. Despite several requests, and then threats involving ice cubes, Jason would not divulge their destination. 

"You'll find out! For the hundredth time, I'm not telling!" Jason was enjoying himself at her expense, laughing at her huff. She considered upping the ante and threatening things involving his hairstyle. The glint in his eye made her reconsider. 

The car turned off on an exit headed downtown, to one of the rows of shops sporting odd names and carefully manicured fronts. Once the car hit the slower speed limits, Jason reached for a switch in the center console. With a mechanical whir the middle of the roof pulled back, opening a well hidden sun roof. 

Stasis looked at Jason. He looked at her. In a rush she was standing, her head and torso out of the sunroof. Jason followed suit with a smile and the two of them stood taking in the sights. She slitted her eyes against the wind and whooped. 

"C’mon, you! Where are we going?" She made as if to punch him in the shoulder. 

Jason rolled his eyes. "I told you, I'm not telling. Totally." He relished the word and she growled. 

"Well, then. I'll just… ask Doug!" 

Jason shook his head, "Go ahead, he won't tell you either." Jason grinned at her, smug and superior. She’d show him! 

He stopped laughing when she climbed out onto the roof of the car, too astonished to stop his impulsive friend. She crawled forward, body flattened on the roof against the wind. Her strong pale fingers curled around the small ledge offered by the windshield and she pulled herself forward easily. She popped her head down, and rapped on the glass, peering at the driver. Her pale eyes laughed into his as she hung upside down, sprawled precariously over the top of the car. 

“Hey Doug! Where are we going again!?" 

Jason ducked back inside hastily, choking back a laugh. Doug's face in the rearview mirror was blanched, his normally calm demeanour rocked by Stasi's actions. 

"You’d uh, better tell her, Doug. She'll only get worse." He couldn’t resist, he just couldn’t. He almost never caught Doug with his figurative pants down. “I told you not to encourage her.”


	28. Fashion 02

Whatever certification Doug had to be driving Cadillacs for young stars, it had to have been good. Even with a white knuckled grip on the wheel the car never wavered in its course. 

The driver looked out the windshield at the upside-down girl and cleared his throat. He pitched his voice to carry through the glass, trying to remember anything his training had mentioned about dealing with the mentally deficient. 

“We’re going to Valentina DuChampes, Miss.” 

The girl just cocked her head and blinked. Clearly, she hadn’t heard and she didn’t seem to be making any effort to get down from her unsteady perch either. The hair whipped across her eyes but she seemed perfectly comfortable balancing on the roof. Doug didn’t know what they taught at St. Joseph’s, but he really didn’t think this was part of the curriculum. 

At least the young Jason didn’t appear to be the least inclined to crawl out and join his friend. A glance in the rearview confirmed that he didn’t seem to be willing to go and fetch her either. 

Doug let out a trickle of breath and considered his options. Being arrested for driving down the street with a teenager welded to the roof would not look good on his driving abstract. Neither did he want to do anything drastic that might cause the girl to lose her grip and fall. What to do? 

Salvation appeared on the right hand side like a blinking indicator light from God. Slowly, carefully, he turned the vehicle towards the long building with a large, bright sign. As he pulled off the main road he couldn’t help the smile. Still holding the steering wheel he lifted one finger and with a double tap point, directed Stasi’s attention up. 

She lifted her head to look in the indicated direction. She took in the building. The line up of other cars. The garish sign. 

Car Wash. 

Four seconds later she was in the arms of safety, scrambling back into her seat with the panicked expression still visible. Jason had slumped over, laughing so hard his eyes were tearing. 

Doug at least caught the glare she leveled at her friend and hid a smile. The blonde crossed her arms in an obvious attempt at petulance. 

Jason hiccupped and managed to stop laughing for about two seconds. One look over at her though and he lost it again. She mimed a punch at his shoulder and he held up his hands to fend her off. “Okay! Okay, I’ll tell you!” But he couldn’t seem to form the words. The boy made a flailing gesture to the driver. 

“Miss, I think laughing boy would like me to tell you again that we’re going to Valentina DuChampes.” 

“Well, why didn’t you  _ say _ so?” She sat back acting to all the world like she knew what they were talking about. Eyeing the mirror, she waited till Doug pulled the car out into traffic again and was paying full attention to the road. Then she reached over and slugged Jason a good one in the shoulder. “What’s Valentina the Champs?” she whispered. “If you wanted to go to the gym, we could have just stayed at school.” 

“Oww!” Jason stopped laughing and rubbed his shoulder. “It’s not a gym, you. It’s a really nice… clothing store.” That was kind of like calling the Taj Mahal a really big house but he wasn’t going to tell  _ her _ that. 

“Ayuh?” she huffed. “There’s nothing wrong with these.” She hooked her thumbs under the straps of the coveralls. 

Jason looked at her. “Sure. All we need now is a corn cob pipe, and you’ll look perfect.” He was already easing away before she started to raise another mock fist. 

Stasis mumbled something and crossed her arms again, turning her back. Jase was pretty sure he caught the start of a grin on her face though. 

Jason rolled his eyes and leaned towards at the discreet chauffeur. “Doug, what do you think of Stasi’s attire? Honestly?” 

“I honestly don’t think I should say.” The laugh lines around the older man’s eyes crinkled. “But that should end soon enough. We’re here.” He slid the car smoothly into an open spot, killing the engine in front of a store which boasted trendy manikins with heads made up of triangles. Stasi peered around Jase, curious. It sure didn’t look like a department store. 

Doug got out of the car and looked around for a moment, before walking around the side and opening the door for the two teenagers. “Everything’s clear, sir.” 

“Thank you Doug, please pull the car around back. You can join us inside if you like.” Stasis blinked at the suddenly stuffy exchange, sliding across the seat as Jason got out. The two men, younger and older, stood waiting for her. It had to be some guy thing and asking would spoil the mystery. 

Stasi stepped out of the Caddy and eyed the storefront with trepidation. Wedge-headed plastic people or not, the place reeked of money. Beautifully potted ivy decorated the faux pillars on either side of the glass doors, which were, of course, tinted so she couldn’t see what she was getting into. Delicate gold filigree stated the name  _ Valentina _ in what could only be described as smug script. The look on Jason’s face didn’t inspire her either. 

With a flourish, her tall friend offered his arm. 

Huh. If he thought she was going to fall for  _ that _ … she tilted her chin up aggressively, pushing down the lump of uncertainty. “Not a chance, you! I learned how to walk all by myself years ago.” 

“Really? Could have fooled me.” The smirk was irrefutable and she took happy refuge in getting annoyed. Hitching up the overalls, her really  _ nice _ overalls that were both comfortable and functional, she strode across the stretch of sidewalk and breezed through the doors like she owned them. 

That lasted about four steps. 

Okay, so it was a clothing store. That was kind of like saying it sold clothes and it obviously did that, no question. There were moulded wall shelves with mysterious things piled on them, soft things, warm things. More pie people were standing in artful clusters, modeling things that had way too much in the way of air conditioning. When she realized that one of the mannequins was actually showing a breast, she gulped and hastily averted her eyes. 

_ Ayuh. _ The last time she’d seen fabric with that many holes in it, it had been a bikini! From what she’d seen even Kali’s gear couldn’t compare and she’d always thought Kali was uber daring. 

There were no racks of jeans and shirts to hide behind. No bored saleslady trying to chat up the stock boy. Instead there was only a huge half circle of a desk in some sort of dark cherry wood dominating the center of the floor, well lit and elegantly appointed with no less than three blonde clones. Each one of which had looked up at her intrusion like sharks scenting blood and were now eyeing her as if trying to decide if she was edible or not. 

It didn’t take them two seconds to make a telepathic decision. In a choreographed move, easily as practiced as her own fighting technique, one peeled away from the pack and began to advance around the edge of the thing that might have been a desk but could equally well have been a staging platform for an urban assault. 

“Can we help you?” 

She actually squeaked; not her finest moment. She took a step back, preparing to turn and bolt. Instead she bumped into a warm, hard body, one that slipped an arm around her waist. The fingers that dug in slightly told her she wasn’t going anywhere. 

“Actually, you can help us.” The slight stress on the last syllable was all it took. The well manicured barracuda impressions disappeared so fast that Stasis stared first at them, and then up into a smirk that had a hard edge she’d never seen before. The hand on her hip felt odd, looking up at his profile. “We’re here to see Valentina.” 

“Oh yes  _ sir _ , just a moment.” The clone hesitated on the turn. “Is she expecting you?” She seemed to be apologizing for even asking. 

“Why don’t you go and ask her?” She watched him flash a kilowatt smile and the clone almost blushed. 

Yeah, way weird. This was a Jason she’d never even known existed. Standing there she realized she’d never actually been this close to her friend before. Well, except maybe for that time hiding from those Council snipers, but that probably didn’t count. It was odd. 

“Jason Bere _ zhin _ ! Let me take a look at you!” 

Like a summoned genie, a blonde woman who could have been the godmother of the clones appeared near the back of the store. She was a fiftyish, willowy creature, with a voice that sounded like she’d been chain smoking all her life. A silk blouse in russet and gold could not quite disguise the sharp shoulders but the camel colored slacks were neatly cut to shape a body that was obviously all that money could buy, more than capable of turning heads. 

Stasis eyed her approach with something less than enthusiasm but Jason’s grip didn’t give her a lot of choices. 

The older woman moved directly toward Jason, ignoring everything else, ringed hands outstretched. She took his free hand in both of hers and Jason smiled, leaning so the woman could reach his face. It struck Stasis with the same feeling as seeing Doug hold open the car door, this strange mix of subservience and familiarity. 

The move she made to slip away while he was distracted had to be aborted because Jase hooked a thumb into a belt loop. She considered stepping on his toes. 

Valentina leaned back after the kiss, wiping a small smudge of lipstick from Jase’s cheek. “You just keep getting bigger. You have been working out, you cannot fool me.” Jason chuckled and looked down at the floor for a moment. “I can see we’ll need to be re-tailoring some of your prêt-a-porter.” She finally deigned to notice Stasis, a pretty good feat considering the girl had been in kissing distance herself a second ago. “And who is  _ this _ delightful creature?” Valentina put a finger to her lips, looking the girl up and down. Stasis could almost see the dismissal and bristled. 

Jason put a subtle pressure on the arm around her waist, either as warning or comfort. The panic she was feeling was probably apparent, or maybe he was just sensing her urge to hit something and was trying to minimize the maneuvering room. “Valentina DuChampes, this is Stasi.” Oddly enough, he hesitated on her name, stumbling just a little over the syllables. “Stasi, Valentina. Stasi is my very good, my very dear friend.” Now that was an odd way to say what was totally obvious. “And we have come… to shop.” Jason’s trained voice did wicked things to the last two words, much to Valentina’s delight. 

“Ah! Music to my ears, boychick!” Valentina let out a laugh, her long fingers flicking in the air, obviously excluding Stasis again to focus on what was important. “What is your wish then? Daywear, travel, haute couture..?” 

Stasi tried to follow the ensuing banter, she did, but much of it was way over her head, referencing what somebody she’d never heard of wore last month, something to do with an event that apparently Jason had attended. Eventually she cocked her hip and tried leaning away but the jerk just shifted his feet to accommodate. She tried blowing the hair out of her eyes very loudly but he just kept talking in that strange gossipy way. Eventually she gave up and just stood there, pretending she was a pie headed mannequin. 

Forever later Jason looked finally looked down with that crooked grin, still directing his words at the fashionista. “She’s the best friend I’ve got, Val. Take good care of her.” 

“As if I would do anything else.” Valentina scoffed. “Especially for a friend of yours. Come, let us look at you then.” The woman took Stasi’s hand then, pulling her inexorably away. The woman’s fingers felt odd, paper thin, like the young student could crush them without even trying. “Belinda, the blue room, please.” Stasi cast a mute, panicked look over her shoulder but all she got back was a discrete thumbs-up which didn’t help in the slightest. She crossed her eyes at the clones as they went by in the way of minor retaliation, including the one speaking quickly into a telephone. 

Valentina walked them to the back, through an unmarked door that led to a surprisingly well appointed antechamber. A nearly ceiling height dressing screen in an oriental pattern blocked off a fairly large section at the end of the room, with several mirrors in a semicircle nearby reflecting them all. To Stasi’s surprise Doug was already there, along with several bottles that had to be from the Caddy arranged on a low table. 

More ominously two people walked into the room just behind them, worrisome people with yellow tape measures. 

“Don’t look like that, Miss,” Doug chided. “Ms. DuChampes will take good care of you.” 

“Ms.? Oh, you terrible man, you wound me and after all we said to each other. I shall stick pins in your next suit jacket, see if I don’t. Now come here and greet me properly.” 

Doug grinned, not seeming to take offense. He walked over and exchanged cheek kisses with Val, who still didn’t let go of Stasi’s hand. Obviously the kissing thing was a communal event around here. She gritted her teeth and tried not to feel uncomfortable about it. 

“Now, let us see what we have to work with.” Valentina turned Stasi to the mirrors and put those sharp hands on her shoulders. “Good bones, I can see. Tall as well. That will help with the hanging.” 

Hanging? She had a sudden vision of a swinging rope. 

Then the door opened behind them and through the left handed reflection, she watched Jason walk in. 

Gold. Bronze and clean skin, an easy stride. She watched him cross behind her, reach to shake his driver’s hand although they’d just parted minutes ago. He said something but she didn’t catch what. For a moment she wasn’t even sure she recognized him. Did he really look like that? In the mirror, he was a stranger. His white smile flashed again and she found herself blinking as his doppelganger eyes met hers. 

Then Valentina snapped her fingers and the two assistants came forward. The next few minutes were lost in a lot of arguing. 

She hadn’t known she had that many dimensions. One number had usually covered it all but while one measured, the other took notes and it was like being surrounded by very loud bees. 

“Hey!” She squirmed but it didn’t much help. “Lay off! That totally tickles!” 

From the couch, Jase laughed. It was reassuring. Just Jase, being a pain. “Trust me, everything tickles. Deal with it.” 

“Funny, you. Let see you… hey!” She tried to bat away bee number one. “I said, lay off!” 

“I think that’s enough for the moment. Merle, I think we will start with Ambraisi’s collection, let us begin with the sheers. Jordan, please ask Elena to help.” In her element, the designer shooed Stasi around the privacy screen. After a few furious whispers that Doug and Jason affected not to hear, the candy striped coveralls appeared along the top edge. They looked kind of forlorn, away from the girl that gave them such lopsided life. 

Then the clothes started to appear. In discreet armfuls, things disappeared behind the screen, sometimes only for bare seconds before making hasty reappearances at velocity. 

Jase leaning back, grinning. Stasi was getting louder but he could hear it in her voice. She was enjoying the hell out of herself. From the sound of it, so was Valentina. 

“No! Forget it, I am totally not wearing that!” 

“And why not, you silly thing! It is the height of today, the color alone…!” 

“I don’t care! It’s ugly! I’ll look stupid!” 

Stasi charged around the corner, the color high in her face. She brandished the offending… thing, whatever it was. It was sort of a peachy color but that’s all that Jase really could tell. A shirt maybe? A feather of fringe dangled down. 

“Jase! Tell her I don’t have to wear this!” 

She wasn’t wearing much. Under the overalls she had apparently worn a pair of cotton shorts, the tee shirt and not much else. Socks. She still had socks on. 

“Uh. Okay?” 

“Good answer! I am  _ not _ wearing this!” She was gone again, back around the screen, leaving Jase blinking. 

“Good answer indeed, Jason.” That was Doug. “You handled that well.” 

He could only nod. 

Eventually the estrogen levels stabilized and the ejections slowed and then stopped altogether. Jase had never really been on this side before. What was taking so long? He wanted Stasi to come back, wearing something nice and he could compliment her and she’d laugh or get mad, whichever and then he could look all knowledgeable and… 

Well, and something. He hadn’t figured the rest out but it would go really well. Stasi deserved to be treated so much better than she was. He knew how sad she’d been. And better than almost anybody, he knew what she did on her patrols and what she didn’t tell, he could imagine. She needed this. Listening to her argue over the color of a shirt was nearly enough to make him sing. 

Finally Valentina walked out from behind the screen, clapping her hands. Her expression could only be described as a cat in cream. 

“May I present?” 

Valentina moved to the side and for about three seconds nothing more happened. 

“Come, do not be shy. Come and show your friend. You look wonderful.” 

“Jase?” 

“Yeah, Stasi?” 

“If you laugh, I’ll whump you. Just so’s you know.” 

“Got it.” He exchanged a look with Doug. “No laughing.” 

“Alright.” 

He could almost envision the shoulders squaring. He definitely heard the intake of breath. 

She was wearing a pair of denim jeans, a blue so soft as to be near white, hugging her slim legs from hip to knee and flaring at the bottom to accommodate her boots. An intricate geometric pattern played hide and seek across the tight fabric, shimmering silver. A band of deeper blue wound around her neck, down, a widening spiral that left her shoulders bare but covered her torso in skimming curves. Her midriff was bare, exposing pale muscle and fluttering breath. Matching blue winked at her ears, a cold snake of silver hugged one forearm. 

Not so much, no. Simple.  _ Beautiful _ . Not a single fringe to be seen. 

So why were her eyes so scared?


	29. Static

_ The Franco-Prussian War (July 19, 1870 – May 10, 1871) was declared by France on Prussia, which was backed by the North German Confederation and the south German states of Baden, Württemberg and Bavaria. The conflict marked the culmination of tension between the two powers following Prussia's rise to dominance in Germany, which before 1866 was still a loose federation of quasi-independent territories. _

_ The war began over the possible ascension of some guy yadda yadda from the Catholic branch of the Hohenzollern royal family because of something about the Spanish throne and a chick named Isabella who did something in 1868. This was strongly opposed by France who issued an ultimatum to King Somebody Or Other... _

It might as well have been Greek... or Prussian. Who cared about some silly war a million years ago? She sure didn't. After all, the only war that had really counted, they'd won. 

Stasis flipped over on her bed though and stuck the textbook right under her nose, hoping that maybe proximity would make the difference. Her essay wasn't going to write itself. 

She started at the top of the page and started reading again for like the fifth time. 

_ The Franco-Prussian War... _

_ I missed yuh somtin fierce. _

She took a deep breath as her heart stuttered, a familiar unwelcome feeling. 

No. 

No, she was  _ not _ going to think about Jai. She was done with that. She was going to concentrate on her homework and write something that would maybe get her a passing grade on this silly war. Frankfurter Russian whatever, it was totally due and she had to turn in something this time, she did. Sister Constance had been very clear on that. No excuses this time that Bailey had eaten her homework in a fit of doggy depression. 

_ I missed yuh alla de time. _

So what if he was back in school. Back after the whole summer gone, when he hadn't even said goodbye, not even a note for her, not even a phone call. Surely there was at least one phone on Trinidad? 

She hadn't believed the gossip though, not really. Not even after wandering down to the office and seeing  _ Marchan, Jai _ registered on this semester's courses. It's not like people didn't play tricks and everybody knew how much she missed him. If Jai'd come back he'd've called her, right? He'd have come to see her first thing, only he hadn't, so it was just somebody's silly idea of a joke and she wasn't going to play along. 

She hadn't even stopped by the boys' quad, not even to hang out with Misericorde because she didn't want to see his corner of the room still empty. 

She focused her unwilling eyes on the words she was supposed to mesmerize. 

_...Austria wanted to avenge the defeat of 1866, but would not support France unless Italy was part of the alliance. Victor Emmanuel II and the Italian government wanted to support France, but Italian public opinion was bitterly opposed so long as Napoleon III kept a French garrison in Rome... _

So she hadn't been ready, oh no, not ready at all to actually hear his dark voice on the comm, teasing just like he always did. It had hit her like aphasia, tangled all the words in her mouth. It was almost like she hadn't dared to believe until just that instant, maybe hadn't even wanted to believe. 

She'd worked so very hard at forgetting. How could he just come back like this and pretend nothing had changed? Not even a  _ phone _ call! 

She stared sightless, fingers curling into the hard cover. 

_ Yuh jus gon give meh static, sometimey? _

Nobody called her sometimey anymore. Nobody even called her by her name and she liked it that way, she did. And just what was she supposed to say anyways? Hello? How you doing? With everybody listening in and laughing, probably thinking... well, whatever it was they thought. Was she supposed to ask if he'd brought her a present, like he'd just gone down the street? 

She'd wanted to hit him then. There'd been no words at all that weren't suddenly, furiously angry. 

She'd managed something though, because she was supposed to. Because something had to be said with the pressure of her friends waiting and then she'd run, and she'd flared into power like a comet and she'd kept moving because to stop was to think and she didn't want to think or even feel. Even when Andrew had faltered finally, had fallen, she'd kept driving forward, the copper taste in her mouth that said that Jai would have understood exactly what she needed even then. 

Had kept running until she was back in his arms. 

Stupid, stupid. 

She rubbed her face on her shoulder, tried to focus again on the homework because she didn't want to think about him, she  _ didn't _ . The words marched like tidy little ants across the logical sheet, describing things that never made any sense because she never understood why she was supposed to care. What did it matter about some people getting all upset about things a hundred years ago? She could walk down the street and find people getting upset about stuff now, and that at least she could do something about. 

She was upset. Upset over a stupid, silly boy from Trinidad who always made her laugh and the only one that could make her cry and who could just walk back into her life like nothing could ever possibly change, like she'd just wait around until he came back, but she  _ had _ waited, she had, and he'd probably forgive her for being all prickly, even though it was all his fault and it was all just so messed up and  _ stupid _ ! 

The text blurred in front of her eyes, the words disappearing. It took a second but she realised it was because ice was beginning to swirl, her breath steaming with cold. Tears pricked her eyes. 

Her teeth snapped and she was on her feet in an instant, throwing the stupid book with all her strength because there was nothing else she could do, no other way to explode, nothing there she could even  _ hit _ . 

It struck the door frame next to Erika's head just as her quadmate walked in the door. 

Erika stopped dead in her tracks, blinking. Her startled, wary gaze went from the offending book to Stasis. 

"Something wrong? Oh, I get it." 

The other girl leaned down then and nonchalantly picked the textbook up, opening it to a random page. She held it out towards the tanker. 

"You hold it like this, Snowflake." 

She heard the tearing sound as the arctic wind pulled into her body, the dim pleasure of it as rime coated everything around her in a circle. It made her boots sound dull as she stalked out the door, brushing past her stupid quadmate who didn't even known enough to get out of the way. Her shoulders were as tight as her eyes. 

Whatever. Erika could clean up the mess.


	30. An Element of Blank

By the time the sun woke up over the horizon, she was long gone. 

Back at the quad, the other girls were probably still sleeping. She should be too, by rights. Mornings and she had never agreed anyways and probably never would. But today she was cutting through the air in easy leaps even as the sun struggled to light her way. She slitted her eyes against the wind and ignored the stinging sensation. 

_ Yeah. Mornings and Mimi. _

She'd thought about going to Faultline, the perverse feeling of justification almost overriding the other things she felt. Instead she took grim satisfaction in the swift flight across Peregrine, the industrialized island flashing under her boot heels. The shock of each landing rattled her teeth, compressed her spine. Each soaring arc into the still dark sky stripped things away, made her lighter. 

She knew where to go now. 

The best part, the perfect part was it had been Mimi who'd shown her. Mimi who'd probably thought only to prove that there were still things she couldn't fight, still things that her security pin meant nothing to. It had been sly concern over the undertow of the challenge. 

And sure she'd been too confident. She almost always was, that was nothing new. The green haired girl hadn't whispered  _ I told you so _ but the words had been there anyways when she'd felt her med badge trigger; so quickly she'd barely had a chance to take a second breath. 

The pain had been instant and excruciating. Like nothing she'd felt before, cutting through her armor like it didn't exist. Like she didn't exist. Impersonal. Uncaring. The hospital walls had materialised around her like a sudden prison. 

She'd taken perverse pleasure then that Mimi had had to fly back the long way. 

In the light of the reluctant dawn, she streaked bright across the waters; back to the place where nothing would matter but how many breaths she could take against the pain. 

Mimi was very, very wrong if she thought that Faultline had been the place where she'd gone to sulk. 

______ 

The static in her head made it hard to think, so she didn't bother trying. Her boots echoed on the floorboards. At least, she thought they echoed but it might have just been her ears. Nobody else seemed to think there was something odd going on so she ignored the heartbeat of delay between the motion and the sound. Hunger had made itself known so she wandered towards the cafeteria, weaving her way through the growing traffic. 

"Hey Stasi, wrong costume!" A boy with auburn hair grinned at her. "Better get plaided before you get another demerit." 

She laughed in return, easily enough. "Heyla, I'm collecting the set don'tcha know. Not to worry! I'll change before class." She smiled and pushed him out of her way, kept walking. She was pretty sure she knew him. The name was lost somewhere in her head though. Barj? Maybe. Maybe not. She had a feeling that Barjnal wore his hair differently. 

"Hey Stas, we still on for after third period?" Someone else, a girl with green eyes. She nodded, listening to her stomach growl. Sure. There was no name this time but it didn't matter. She'd remember. "Hey that's great, I'll see ya then!" 

The scent of food hit her face as she walked into the common room. It sharpened her focus and some of the fog dissipated. She quickened her step, took a free tray, jostled with the others for a decent serving. A smaller kid tried to phase her a few paces away but she laughed and planted her feet. She thought she knew him too and smiled even as she denied him her position in line. 

She swiped two apples at the end, one red, one green. Christmas colors. Looked around for a place to sit. 

Across the room somebody waved, and then somebody else called out. "Hey Stasi, over here! I got coo-kies!" 

She didn't need to know their names. It didn't matter, they were friends. The bone struck bruises under her long sleeved uniform proved it somehow. Her heart felt bird-bright; restarted too many times this morning and there was something dangerously shorted inside her head. It would pass like always. 

_ She _ was wrong. She couldn't even remember who she meant anymore or why but  _ she _ was so very wrong, about everything that mattered. So what if she'd never win an argument, never be able to explain it? She'd never been able to string words together. She'd never been good with arguing, everybody knew that. She got mad and then all the words and reasons flew away like frightened children. 

She saw him. 

He wasn't sitting alone, but she couldn't remember if she knew who he was with either. The vaudun boy was smiling, his white teeth shining in the warmth of his face, talking to the person across the table. She smiled then, simply because he was. 

_ Yuh lyin' ta meh. _

It was easy enough to walk over, the static in her head drowning out anything except what was important. She knew him. She did, knowledge as deep as the bruises. She sat down, putting the green apple on his tray without thinking. 

_ You never meet me halfway. _

She leaned against his side, happy, soaking in the familar, needed warmth. 

Friends were what was important.  _ He _ was important. 

The girl... the other girl didn't have any idea what she was talking about.


	31. Everyone Needs A Hobby

There were a lot of things Erika might reasonably expect with a knock on the door. A friend was the usual explanation, either hers or Stasi's. Then again it might be one of the other girls with a petition, agitating for a vending machine on the second floor. Hell, it could even be a teacher's aide, dropping off homework for Summer who was still laid up with her wrecked knee. Right now the third Q5 member was off doing physiotherapy in the pool. 

It wasn't any of those things. When Erika opened the door, ready to say either hello, go away or thanks, she found herself staring into the brown chest of a uniform. Looking up yielded a hopeful face under an equally brown cap. The guy smiled at her. 

"Is this dorm room five?" 

"Uh. Yeah." Idiot, she thought. "This is Q5." 

"Thank God. I think I knocked on every door in this wing. Sign here please." 

Erika did, scrawling her signature on the tiny screen. "So what'm I signing for?" 

"Delivery from WorldTech." The guy took a package from under his arm and handed it over. She glanced at the name on the tag. 

"It's for you, snowflake." 

She turned and lobbed it underhanded across the room. Sitting crosslegged on her bed, Stasis barely managed to catch it. Erika ignored the sour look. 

"Thanks, Miss. We'll have the rest up in a jiffy." 

"Rest? What? There's more?" Erika turned back but the guy was down the hallway, digital clipboard under his elbow. She rolled her eyes at the back of his head. 

"So... what is it this time?" Erika turned to look at Stasis. "Another box of chocolates from a secret admirer?" 

It was a joke and it wasn't. There was  _ always _ stuff showing up for Stasis, although admittedly this was the first time something had arrived in a brown uniform. Secretly Erika wondered what the other girl was doing to get all this attention. This pot had to be calling the kettle black. The first time they'd met, her platinum haired roommate had all but called her a tramp... but nobody got this many gifts without putting out.

"Not likely. I hate chocolate," Stasis replied with a shrug. She rotated the plainly wrapped rectangle in her fingers, making no attempt to open it. Erika crossed her arms and tapped her fingers. Finally she couldn't take it any more. 

"Well, open it already. What are you waiting for, permission? It's addressed to you, dummy." 

"Yeah." Still, Stasis just kept turning the thing. Erika couldn't figure out the expression on her face. 

"Oh, for pete's sake. Let me then." 

"Hey!" 

Too late. Erika grabbed the package and easily slid the seams apart by running a hot fingernail along the edges. Stasis made an abortive attempt to grab it back but Erika just stepped back out of reach. The non-descript covering yielded a plastic baggie of neatly coiled cables, various connectors and a bubble wrapped remote control. It was the least romantic gift Erika'd ever seen. 

"Your secret admirer got a fetish for the plastic industry?" 

"Heyla, shut up already! Look, it's from Jai, all right? Not some silly secret admirer which I  _ don't _ have, thankyouverymuch." Stasis lunged and grabbed the electronics back, retreating back to the bed. 

Erika raised her eyebrows "Okay, I give. Why would your boyfriend give you a bunch of wiring? He got some kinky side we don't know about?" 

The look on her roommate's face was worth it. Stasis even started to raise her fist but they were interrupted by a sound at the door. Erika turned back and it was the brown delivery guy again. Only this time she had a great look at his back as he minced in, carrying one end of a large, oddly squashed box. As they got farther in, she could make out the splashy logo for Sonicboom stenciled all over it. What was going on here? 

"Where do you want it?" 

"Want what? What is it?" 

Stasis spoke over her shoulder. "Put it .. uh, you can put it over there." The other girl scrambled to clear a place by the large windows, pushing a couple of chairs out of the way and hipchecking a study desk a measly few inches over. The swing arm lamp wobbled dangerously. "Thanks, hey?" 

"Not a problem, miss." 

The two delivery guys wrestled the thing into approximate position, carefully placing it on the floor. It was so damned big it didn't really fit so it ended up sitting sort of sideways. The uniforms smiled and nodded, probably happy they'd managed to cart the thing up a flight of stairs without dropping it where anybody could see them. They left, closing the door with a soft click. Neither of the girls paid any attention. 

It stood about three feet high or so, maybe five feet long. Other than the company logo everywhere and the packing slip glued on the side, there wasn't a whole lot to give it away. It was too big to be chocolate and too small to be a gold plated elephant. Just what the hell was going on? 

The packing slip. 

Erika tore it off and flipped open the sheet. Stasis didn't seem to care, staring down at the box like it offended her somehow. Her roommate's expression was still impossible to understand. Erika ran her eyes down the content list. 

"Holy shit, Stasi. Did Jai rob a bank or something?" 

The tanker mumbled something. 

"A 42" HDTV plasma screen? Integrated DVD player? Tangent5 surround speakers?" Erika's voice kept getting higher and higher with surprise. "Paid in  _ full _ ?" Erika looked again just to be sure. "You didn't tell me Jai was rolling in it." 

"I didn't know." The snowcone's voice was barely audible. 

Erika shook her head and crumpled the packing slip in one hand. "Don’t you think that'd be something you mighta  _ noticed _ before this? You know, maybe in passing?" Her tone left little doubt about her opinion on that. "You really do have ice for brains, don't you? I bet this stuff cost a couple grand, easy." 

Stasis opened her mouth and then closed it again. High points of color stood out like flags on her cheeks. "Yeah. Something like that." 

"Well, holy shit, snowflake." She enunciated each word, staring at the box with her hands on her hips. "What the hell did Jai buy you a home theatre for?" 

"He said I needed a hobby." 

Of all the answers Stasis could have possibly given, that wasn't anywhere near the list. Erika just gaped at her. "You needed .. a hobby?" 

The blonde shrugged. "Ayuh. I didn't feel like taking up archery." 

She couldn't help it. Erika started to laugh. Stasis just looked pained, shifting from foot to foot. Erika eventually hiccuped to a halt though and then they both stood looking at the thing that was now taking up a reasonable chunk of quad. 

She was the one to break the tableau. 

"Well. Guess we'd better get started." 

Stasis glanced at her. "Started with what?" 

Erika grinned, thinking this could really work out in a number of ways. After all, nobody else on this floor had anything like this, that’s for damned sure. "Getting it set up. C'mon, iceberg. Let's get it unpeeled and we'll stick it on the wall." 

"We don't have any room on the wall." 

Erika reached out and tugged experimentally on a corner of the box. "Trust me. We'll make room."


	32. Cheer This, Part Deux

"Hey, Stasis! Way to go!"

The blonde girl blinked and waved back in easy confusion, dodging a pair of speeders on her way to her locker.

"Yeah! Go, me!" She hollered at the retreating back. "What I do this time?"

The answer floated back on cherubim wings. "Cheer squad, second time running! You rock!"

Stasis blanched. No way. No _freaking_ way. Franky could not _do_ this to her, not again. She'd been emphatic, f'sure, had never even taken her cheer uniform out of its silly little plastic wrap! She'd never attended even a single practice, had told everybody who'd listen how she wasn't on the cheer squad, no way, no how, not in _this_ lifetime, sister....

She just stood there in the middle of the hallway.

"Oh... _man!_ "

 

* * *

 

 

As her dark haired friend charges up, Stasi is still standing in the middle of the hall, contemplating the deep anger the universe obviously holds towards her. It's punishment, she decides. If she hadn't offered to help Misericorde, if friendship had not raised its ugly, pockmarked face and swayed her into communal spirit, none of this would be happening. It felt like a nightmare, only with ribbons and those little girly boots with the applique stitching that would probably disintegrate as soon as they got within fifteen yards of the Paragon City Sewers, let alone into the mess itself.

Kali Jade, eternal bubblehead, doesn't seem to mind that the girly boots she'll have to wear will disintegrate the first time she tries to actually DO anything in them. Kali Jade probably thinks this is the Best Thing Ever and seems convinced that Stasi ought to feel the same way. She clutches her friend's pale fingers and jumps up and down with excitement.

"Stas! WE MADE IT!"

Stasis blinks, jolted out of her dark and sombre reverie. Visions of pink doom are chased away by the effervescent squeal and she grins back automatically.

"Um... yeah. Yeah! Go, us.. like, totally. We rock?"

"Staaaaasi! This is SO GREAT! Isn't this so great? Yeah!"

Obviously more effort was needed. Kali needed support! The pock marked monster of friendship had to be soothed into submission! Stasis sighed and gripped her friend's hand.

"You know it, girlfriend! Flyers Forever! Woot!"

She could always dodge practice like she did last time. No big deal. Kali's shining face was pretty awesome to look at anyways and Happy Kali meant Happy Jack which meant that maybe the locker-shoving incidents would be at an all time low this week.


	33. All Things Change

Independence Port never sleeps. 

No matter the day or the hour or even the weather that threatens to move from pretense to reality in the darkness. There is true snow in the skies, a lowering chill that cuts through gloves and language alike. It's bad in the alleys of Independence but the docks are harsh; work that doesn't end, not with the ships that need to move from heavy to light and from light to day. Men swarm in and out of the halogens, stamping feet and crates in a rhythm made old by years and effort. 

A slim form ghosts across the uneven planking. Dark on white, her boots stretch across the disputed territory. The wind across the water lifts pale hair in sharp strands, attempts to carve a blush on unreacting cheeks. The girl moves half asleep through the workers that eye her with jaundice and quieter curses. 

They don't know who she is. They don't care. The bare head, the gleam of unobtrusive armor, hands left open to the cold tell them all they need to know. Blessed. Touched. More than human.

She ignores them as they ignore her. Across the docks simply because it is a straighter line although gates are supposed to bar the way with their signs and warnings. Once upon a time she cared about rules. Not so long ago she would have taken the road without hesitation, walking the long way through the dust of snow. She might even have hugged herself against the penetrating cold although she'd have defied it anyways. 

All things change. 

She leaves the artificial life behind, running lightly up a final gangway and then there is only a barrier of darkness and the looming face of a cold building. Its window ledges have long since been mapped into her hands, her mind. If the building is guarded it cares only for its heart because no matter how often she climbs, no alarm sounds. Tonight is no exception. The concrete is familiar and rough under her fingertips and half numb as she is, it still brings an odd comfort. 

At the top she moves unerringly to the place she wishes to be. There cannot be moonlight tonight and only haze marks the reactor but it doesn't really matter. Memory will supply the pieces that are missing. 

Except that she is not alone. 

Anger and frustration spark her in hands, wash the roof in a red question. Dark hair meets her eyes with its accompanying sparkle of drifted white. She sees a slumped shoulder and the cut of a uniform she knows all too well. Her nostrils flare with the scent of sharp alcohol. Careless glass litters the ground. 

She knows better, she does. The shape is wrong, the attitude utterly foreign. But her lips shape a name anyways, breath misting for the first time tonight on the single syllable. 

There is no answer just like there is no moonlight. She frowns then and steps forward, raising lighted fists. Whoever it is, they shouldn't be here, drunk and stupid with one foot hanging over a drop that will break bones sooner or later. 

"Hey.  _ Hey _ ." 

Nothing. She reaches out without gentleness and half pulls the form over, angry enough to leave energy in her touch. Her nose wrinkles in disgust. Dead asleep or passed out. She knows him, although she is somehow surprised by that. Just what is  _ he _ doing here? This is  _ her _ place. Did he follow her here once? She wouldn't put it past him. 

"Clover, you idiot. What do you think you're doing?" Never mind, it's pretty obvious. "You're drunk, get back to school. You're out past curfew." Just like she is of course, although that doesn't cross her mind. She shakes him again, his head rolling easily. She slaps him without thinking, wanting only to get him  _ up _ , get him moving, get him away from her lookout and the peace she so desperately wanted to find here tonight. "If you think I'm going to help you past the penguin patrol, you got another think coming." 

Still, nothing. She bends lower, frowning. Why won't he wake up? It's not that cold, surely, although how would she know? She slaps his face again, a little harder. One lax hand sprawls with the motion, upturned. 

The glow from her hands paints everything black. Black fear in a mess of a line. Black blood long since frozen. Black pain that stops her heart with sudden, terrible understanding. 

"Oh, God. Oh God, Timothy,  _ you idiot. What the hell have you done? _ " 

She's dealt more damage than this, taken it back a hundredfold and laughed and it never hurt like this, never and  _ this is where Lish died, where she wanted only to fall until she couldn't feel either, where dark eyes reflected back at her with pain that she'd put there and now it was happening again and she's too late again _ she doesn't know what to do. 

She fumbles at his throat, shedding red streamers but if there is anything there she doesn't know how to find it; presses a cold hand to his chest but if he still breathes she can't tell. How long has he been here? Long enough for snow to collect on his hair.  _ It's happening again. _

Something... snaps then, in the panic, in the fear. She is not who she was, not really, because all things change. There's frost on her eyelashes though as she tags her comm badge, scoops the unresisting, grim weight in her arms. 

"System, give me Barjnal." 

Each step brings purpose, motion. She falls from the roof like a comet. There is no answer. 

"System,  _ find Barjnal _ ." 

There is nothing, no reply, no sleepy, unaware response. This is not happening. Barjnal isn't a frosh, wet or green or plain stupid, to pin his comm badge to a phone booth receiver to flood the channel with private conversations. Barjnal  _ knows _ to stay online. 

Except, he isn't. 

"System, wide comm. Emergency, emergency SJS,  _ who's awake out there? _ " 

She is in motion, streaking across the ground. The body she often hates serves well, pulling oxygen, building speed out of nothing. 

"I am!" 

"Me too. What emergency? Hello?" 

She doesn't recognize the voices. There are too many, too new. Too late at night. 

"This is Stasis. Whoever you guys are, I need you to drop everything and get to the boys dorm, quad eleven. You hear me? Get to quad eleven and  _ find Barjnal _ ." 

"Hey, I'd love to help but I'm kinda busy..." 

"...I'm nowhere near the school..." 

Helpless anger is the taste of wood in her mouth. She jumps, launching from ground to roof without intervening steps, straight line, arrow swift. Her eyes are wide and black with the strain. 

"Emergency, SJS,  _ emergency! _ Quad eleven, get Barjnal, I'm running for Bell Medical in Independence. Drop everything and  _ move! _ " 

She's nearly crying with frustration. She doesn't even know if he's alive. 

Minutes later there are more voices on the comm, people being pulled out of bed, people talking. Barjnal is not in his quad, can't be found. One of the first voices, the one that was busy, timidly wants to know if everything is okay now. 

The blast of heat as the automatic doors slide open melts snow, ice. Timothy is curled in her arms, too big but she's strong enough for this, whatever it takes. There is action, flurry, coordinated motion that helps her to let go, let them take him away. They probably see a lot of this. This. People trying to die. 

She finds herself in a chair, a cup of hot liquid in her hands. The surface of it is trembling. 

She looks up, not even sure why. His worried, concerned eyes meet hers as he walks across the foyer. The first of many, she's sure. She's woken up the whole school probably. 

But it's only when she's in his arms, head turned into his shoulder that she remembers she's allowed to cry.


	34. Best Laid Plans

The crunch was uber satisfying. 

She’d lost Eddie somewhere in the lobby but there’d been no time to worry about it. He’d do fine, she was sure, he could handle himself and he’d catch up in a minute. Really, it would be okay. She’d just go ahead and take care of this while he mopped up. 

The guy in the trashy blue suit staggered back to his feet, stumbling over the groaning bodies of his gang. He threw a wave of darkness at her but it had no punch, probably some last ditch effort at distraction thinking he could get around her. The blindness sluiced off her armor though, unable to attach and she surged forward, fists cocked, a war whoop on her lips. 

That was when she felt it break. The connection to her new friend snapped, unraveled and suddenly everything was clearer, brighter, amped power arcing in her fingers. She staggered for a second, feeling it like a shock to the heart. 

“Eddie!” she yelled, half turning on one heel. “Eddie, you okay back there?” Stupid question, the suppression linkage they’d set up was gone. What the hell had happened? 

Trashy Blue Suit decided to make his move. He was suddenly under her guard, hands thrust forward as whatever nether realm he’d tapped into tried to channel through his fingers and into her ribs, probably trying to rearrange her internal organs into canopic jars. It might have even worked. 

Except now she was at full strength, ice sublimating and forming so fast it was a diamond haze, the power building under her fingertips approaching nova. Almost gently she struck the guy with a hammerhead, a strike that Mr. Asumio had some weird name for that she could never remember. Ashi? Awase? No wonder she never passed any written tests. 

He went down without a sound whatever it was called and since he was the last, there was sudden silence in the corridor. 

“Muchacho?” She turned and charged back, unwilling to believe that anything terrible could have gone wrong in the last four minutes. Eddie’d been doing fine! Last she’d seen, he’d backed two early birds into a corner and he’d been screaming them into a submission box. 

“Hold it right there!” 

She skidded to a halt halfway around the corner and immediately tried to back up with the net effect that she just windmilled her arms. Sixteen bajillion cops had their guns out, taking cover behind the available scenery, the doorway bristling with blue and white bodies with a sprinkling of red which meant Longbow. She felt her eyes going wide. Oh, that was awesome! She’d never had a chance to meet Longbow agents before. 

“Woah! Hey! Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! I’m a good guy!” 

“Hands where we can see them!” 

“I already got ‘em up, buddy! What more do you want?” She raised her arms higher though, feeling guilty for no good reason. 

“Power down, turn around, hands on the wall.” 

Okay. Was that supposed to help or something? She turned slowly although she probably could have argued the point. What was a few more bullets? Still, these were the cops, not itchy trigger finger Gunners. 

She cast a nervous look over her shoulder though in case they were itchy trigger finger cops. It was a brace of Longbow that came forward to meet, competence in every stride. They stopped a few feet away in a cross fire position. If they felt anything at all being this close to a fully armored tanker, even if she was still in high school, they didn’t show it. 

“Power down, please.” 

She swallowed but did it, pushing the cold away. The ice evaporated into ragged haze, into an arctic wind that spread out in successive concentric waves. She always felt kind of naked immediately afterwards although she was wearing her body armor. She spread her fingers against the rough paint and tried to remember every Dirty Harry flick she’d ever seen. Maybe she was supposed to have a toothpick in her mouth. All the tough guys had toothpicks. Hey, maybe they’d frisk her! 

“Your name.” 

“Stasis. Stasis Kiss.” 

“You have registration, hero?” 

“Um, yeah! Hey, I’ll just get it. Look, you guys got here just in time, my friend Edd…” 

“Don’t move!” 

The sound of anxious artillery made her eep under her breath, half turned and reaching up to her collar. She froze, unsure if she should bring the armor back up. Her breath misted with the indecision. 

“Shit, she’s just a kid!” That from her right, indistinct but disgusted. 

“Don’t… move.” The Longbow agent on her left turned out to be a blonde girl, one hand holding a nasty looking taser device and the other oddly outstretched, nearly touching her shoulder. If she heard the comment from her partner, she ignored it. “We don’t want any accidents. Your registration is where?” 

“G…Got it pinned to my collar. Inside.” She’d nearly lost it so many times she’d wondered if maybe she should just have it welded on. She’d joked with somebody once about having it stapled to her forehead. 

The girl.. no, woman slipped her fingers inside the tight stretch of nemex and pulled her pin out. The holo-encoding winked under the overhead fluorescents, flashing a dim rainbow. 

“She might be a kid, Random, but she’s certified fifty.” 

“Really? What the hell are they doing at city hall now, handing them out with…” 

“Random, shut up. Here.” The woman handed the pin back, turning on a crisp heel to wave the police alert down. Men started to swarm past them in stepped rushes. She didn’t have a chance to tell them they were wasting their time. “Now,” the Longbow said, turning back. “ What were you doing in here?” 

“Stopping the bank robbery. Me and Eddie… gah! Eddie!” Stasis stopped fumbling with the pin attachment and looked around frantically. “Eddie was in here and then our link cut out and I totally whumped the guy I was dealing with and then I ran back here and there was only you guys…” 

“Wait. There’s another kid running around in here? Christ, talk about loss of containment.” The woman raised her not inconsiderable voice. “Officer Parsons! Heads up, we got another stray in here; keep your eyes peeled.” 

“Got it, Rose!” 

“Hey, Eddie can take care of himself!” Really, he could. Something’d just glitched up, that’s all. 

”Yeah? Look, kid. Statis Kind or whatever your registration is. You want something to do after school, go hang out at a mall. Intercepting a police band transmission? You’re lucky you didn’t end up as a hostage and you’re damned lucky I don’t arrest you for obstruction.” 

“What?!” 

The agent just kept talking. “We’ll keep an eye out for your friend. Chances are he bugged out or the advance team picked him up.” Stasis was given the honor of being speared with a gimlet eye. “If I need you, you bet I know how to find you. Don’t let me catch you playing vigilante again. Officer Johns, if you could escort our wannabe out of the building, please.” 

A man in a police uniform appeared as if by magic. “Yes ma’am. This way.” 

The hand on her arm was polite but insistent. She walked stiffly out of the bank, fuming. She’d certified fifty, she had and just who had taken out the tacky suit guy? She had, that’s who! With Eddie’s shield on her, she’d been doing just fine, thank you very much. The officer walked her all the way out past the police cruisers into the gathering crowd and with a nod, just left her there. Just like anybody else! 

Stasis crossed her arms and glared at the bank like she had those laser eyes she’d read about, ignoring the covert stares that a few of the gathering lunch crowd were throwing her way. Hah. See if she’d ever help out again! She consoled herself that tacky suit guy at least would remember her with a bit more respect. That Longbow chiclet probably ate steel rebar for breakfast. 

She managed to hold up her end of the silent rant for about three minutes before her comm chirped. She toggled it onto tight receive. 

“Hey! Stasis! Where are you?” 

“Eddie! Muchacho, you scared the living daylights out of me. Home in, I’m facing the bank, standing on the .. cripes, west corner? East? I have no idea, just zone in wouldja?” 

A minute or so later the low level subsonics tickled her ear, causing her to grin. 

“I heeeeear you.” 

The humming stopped and the bright form of Amplitude appeared at her elbow. They stared at the bank companionably. 

“So, what happened?” 

The guy might have been chewing his lip under the helmet or maybe he was just naturally twitchy. With all the humming he did, it might just be a normal reaction to having his bones jarred all the time. 

“I’m not sure. I think I got hit with a teleport or a phase cone because one minute I’m just about to come after you and the next, I’m halfway across the city. It jammed my comm for a bit and it took me awhile to get back here.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw his shoulders slump. “We blew it, didn’t we?” 

She half shoved his helmet and grinned, pushing aside the sick feeling of being dismissed. “Nah! We did such a fantastic job, they’ve invited us back for tea and crumpets. C’mon,” she said after a second, “let’s go get one of those doughnuts down the street and I’ll tell you all about how it didn't actually happen.”


	35. The Unexamined Life

Even sheltered by the few trees, shielded by the ferns, water seeps through the air. It’s the small pool with its smaller waterfall behind them that’s responsible, causing the vapour that catches on the fine down of her arms. It might have bothered her once, the reaction of water around her. She’s grown used to it though, grown used to so many things that once seemed impossible. The diamond chips of ice now seem more pretty than sinister. 

But what means more is the warmth at her back as she drowses. 

"Wat yuh tinkin’ ‘bout, Tara? Yuh awful quiet." 

"Hey?" She shifts a little, the rough weave of his shirt pressing against her cheek. "Nothing, Jai. I’m not thinking about anything at all." 

"Ah yeh?" His lips smile against her temple. "Dat ain’ exactly usual." 

"Hey," she protests. "I think about nothing all the time." 

The answering chuckle is warm. She squeezes the fingers laced in hers over her belly and considers growling. It’s too much effort. 

"I get worried when yuh t’ink about nothin’. Dat’s usually when I have ta go chasin’ ovuh half a Paragon lookin’ fuh yuh." His lips graze the soft skin, causing delicate shivers down her back. "So tell meh yuh tinkin’ about som’tin’, yeh? 

"Okay," she says. "Then I’m thinking about how I’ve changed. Since I started school, that is," she amends after a moment. 

"School hyuh?" 

"Yeh," she replies. She studies his fingers from under slitted lashes, admiring the half moon curves of the nails. Pale scars knit lacework across his knuckles and one is flatter than the others, smashed at some point and never healed right. "I been tinkin’… I’ve been  _ thinking _ that I don’t know where I’d be, if I wasn’t here." She doesn’t say the rest but maybe he hears it anyways. "Or even who I’d be. I mean, I didn’t have to end up at St. Joseph’s, right? I could of ended up at any school and my whole life would be different." 

She hadn’t been thinking about anything really, but now she is and unease spreads. His arms tighten and the subtle heat of his body rises. 

"Every day yuh wake up yuh different, an’ every night yuh go tuh sleep yuh different. Life’s about livin’, Tara. Mebbe one mornin’ yuh give me a red apple fuh breakfas’ and de world stop turnin’ in shock." 

She laughs. If they were standing she’d whump his shoulder for that but they’re not so she settles for turning her face into his chest again, breathing the spice. 

"Mebbe tomorrow I will and the world won’t notice anything at all. You think of that, Trinidad?" 

"Well, mebbe. I’d notice, yeh? An’ mebbe de world don’ mattuh so much." 

There is a note in his voice on that, something she almost never hears, nearly masked by the steady fall of the water behind and the thump of his heart. Wistful. 

"Yuh mine," she says finally. "An’ I’m yours. The world’s a little bigger than that though, last I looked. Jai," she says, squirming in his arms to look up, "you ever think what it would be like if you never came here?" 

His dark eyes look into hers. One hand lifts to touch her cheek and then brushes a stray bit of hair away from her face. 

"But I did come hyuh." 

"But what if you didn’t?" she repeats stubbornly. "What if your loa told you to go somewhere else or maybe I got sent to some other school like that place in the Rogues and we’d never met each other? You ever wonder who you’d be?" 

"Neh," he says, smiling. "I’ just be meself, only," he says, putting his fingers on her lips as she starts to open her mouth again, "I wouldn’ have de best gyul in de world fuh mine." 

"Oh," she says. 

"Yuh can’ t’ink about dat sort a ‘what if’ t’ings, Tara. Wat dat gon’ do? Yuh jus’ tie yuh brain up in knots and den yuh fall ovuh like de centipede wit too many legs." 

"I am not a centipede." 

"No, yuh not." He brushes her lips then without warning, sweet and warm. "Yuh don’ kiss like one neidduh." 

"Jai!" 

"Wat?" 

As easily as that, the conversation shifts from one kind of serious to another. He could do that too; look at her that one way and all her bones would melt to honey instead of the ice everyone thought they were. Without awareness she traces the corner of his mouth with one finger. He smiles and leans down again. 

"You ever think that maybe you were supposed to be something else?" 

It’s his turn to make a noise, half exasperated, his lips stopped in their descent. "I t’ink I shoulda left yuh tinking about nothin’, sometimey. But… if yuh set on dis, let meh see wat I can do ta answer yuh question." 

He settles her back against his chest then, chin resting against her hair. 

"Close yuh eyes, gyul." 

She does. There is the waterfall and the sound of waves. The rustle of things moving, although nothing is close. Very faintly there is the noise of industry from the city. 

"Wat’s de wors’ t’ing dat evuh happen ta yuh?" 

"Lish," she says, without running it through the filter of her brain first. If she’d thought first, she’d have given a different answer like maybe when her powers first manifested and she’d killed all those people. But then again, he hadn’t asked her what was the worst thing she’d done. And losing Lycia... 

"Wat did yuh learn from dat?" 

"People die." 

"Yeh, fuh certain. Wat’s de rest a dat sentence?" 

She’s angry then, prickly and upset. He knew. He’d been right there, crying, trying to hold her back from that sick bastard who’d killed her friend, who’d sent an image of himself to hurt them more. Everything in her memory had been covered in red that night, light from her hands the color of blood. 

"People die and they leave you alone." 

"Keep yuh eyes closed." She does, guiltily. "Now. Wat’s de best t’ing dat ever happen?" 

"You." 

"Yeh?" There’s laughter in his voice and something else. Something deeper but her eyes are closed and she hears it clearer than anything. The anger drains away as quickly as it tried to rise and she curls up a little more, cradled in his arms. 

"Yeh." 

"Well den," he says carefully, "wat did yuh learn from dat?" 

This answer she has to struggle for. It’s always easier to think of the things that went wrong, went bad, got screwed up seven ways from Sunday and all the reasons why. The same night she’d lost Lish, lost Jade to his grief and guilt, lost the place she’d all but stopped calling  _ school  _ and had started to call  _ home _ … was the night she’d kissed Jai for the first time, half defiance, half gazelle fear in the waterfall behind them. The night he’d given her all the words she would ever need. 

So she repeats them. They are as much an answer as anything else. 

"Fight," she says. "Win." 

He shifts, running a hand up her arm. The forgotten diamonds break away, melting as they hit the ground. 

"So de wors’ t’ing dat evuh happen was Miss Lycia dyin’ and de best t’ing dat evuh happen was meh. Wat dat tell you about yuhself, sometimey?" 

"I don’t know." She hates it when he goes all cryptic on her, like somehow she’s supposed to know this stuff. The darkness behind her eyes doesn’t yield anything helpful either, not with his breath trembling in her hair. 

"Den let meh ask yuh dis question. Wat did yuh learn when Miss Lycia came back?" 

He gives her all the time in the world. She frowns, pale brows drawing together. Finally she manages to string something together. 

"I learned that you… can’t go back. That when Lish died, she  _ died _ . I don’t even know this person who used to be my friend, Jai. Not really, not anymore." She rubs his shirt under her cheek again like a talisman. "It’s the same with Rooster. I don’t even know how to  _ begin _ to talk to him anymore. And he used to be my best friend." 

"An’ wat would yuh learn if I was ta leave yuh?" 

Her fingers curl spastically into his shirt but that’s the only reaction she allows herself. His heart beats beneath her ear, steady as always. His arms support her as if she is the most fragile thing in the world. 

What would she learn, if Jai were gone? Her voice is rough when she finally answers. 

"That I hate it when people leave me. And that I can’t go back." 

She feels him nod, maybe in approval. "Yuh strong, Tara. Yuh the strongest puhson I know an’ I don’ mean wen yuh fightin’. Sometimes I don’ t’ink yuh see it, but I do." 

She’s half laughing into his chest and she thumps a shoulder even as she opens her eyes. "You leaving me, Jai Marchan?" She looks up into his face, dark eyes, dark skin, the clear white of his sudden smile. She wants to kiss him so much it’s an ache. 

"Chupidee. Yuh t’ink I’m crazy? I didn’ chase yuh halfway ovuh Paragon fuh nothin’." 

She does kiss him then because there’s no reason not to. When she finally pulls back she feels like she’s been running a race. His breathing isn’t all that steady either, which is sort of satisfying. 

"You never answered my question." 

"Yeh I did." There is amused affront in his tone. His hand is doing distracting things in her close cropped hair. 

"No you didn’t. You asked me what I learned, and I wanted to know if you ever wondered if .. uh .. Jai. What was I asking? Something about being different." 

"Yuh asked about yuh life bein’ diff’rent. Dat turn a diff’rent corner t’ing." 

"Yeah. That’s it. You never answered." 

"Yeh," he says, "I did. Sometimey, it don’ mattuh if mebbe yuh nevuh came ta dis school. Yuh ken drive yuhself crazy tinkin’ about all de t’ings dat led up ta yuh bein’ hyuh right now, wit me. An’ it don’t mattuh if yuh leave tomorruh, or if yuh decide ta stay or even if mebbe yuh lose dat security pin yuh so proud a, and dey make yuh take de tests all ovuh again like whappen wit me. Mebbe tomorruh yuh wake up and yuh suddenly be dat serious puhson yuh told meh yuh wish yuh were." He taps her forehead with a single finger. "Yuh still Tara. Yuh allus be Tara. An’ yuh cyah go back." 

She’s still frowning. Was that an answer? It’s true, sure, that’s who she is right now. But what if… 

He kisses her again, insistent or maybe impatient, cutting off all lines of thought. She lets it go then because he is here and she is here and the fragile feeling locked in her throat is more important than any question. 

But still. 

What if it was supposed to be different?


	36. Prayerwheel

He sits next to her without asking. 

It has been three days. Long enough that some part of her had wondered whether she should go find him, worried despite everything that he might have hurt himself, curled into himself, too proud to come back. She had told herself not to care but the truth is, she does. She doesn't like to hurt people. 

Yet when the faces across the steaming pool turn to look up, sighting over her shoulder, she knows without being told. She has a single breath to think of nothing at all. 

He settles, his shoulder a bare breath away from touching hers. Too close, time and again but it is something she is fast learning to ignore. It is not that she is comfortable with this. She is nothing close to comfortable but what can she say that she has not already said? Words have failed to drive him away, nor the fine edge of anger. Fury... he has not earned fury yet. His pain is too obvious for that. 

She tries not to react to the subtle challenge of his body. She hates to be touched yet if she shifts away he will follow, his oddly shaped body crowding closer to hers. She realises she decided somewhere that she will not give him that satisfaction, will not give that internal flinching outer expression. She wills herself fiercely not to care that he sits too close. 

She avoids his gaze out of habit now, more than anything. She has no idea what else to do. 

The others continue to talk, over and through her and she adds her own words to the mix, light and fast and meaningless. They notice, they have to notice but no one says anything; no one acknowledges what she feels is written over the two of them like a guilty neon sign. She is sometimes grateful for it. Sometimes though she wishes someone would take up that gauntlet, say something so that she can deny, reject, push it away. Get angry again over it.

It is what she does best after all. 

He shifts then, crosses his arms over his knees. The movement is slight enough but her skin prickles. She thinks sometimes that she can feel the heat of his body through her armor, although that is not true. Still, she imagines sometimes that she does. The lines of his face are fox sharp in the corner of her eye. The alien curve of bone and horn catches the light, the hyperpigmentation of his skin stands out in sharp relief to the pale color of his absence. Does he feel like she feels? Awkward and out of place. 

She doesn't want to hurt anybody. 

Yet when she hears the deep inhalation she turns one shoulder, calls out across the divide to Kali, to Sam. She doesn't even know what she comes up with, a joke maybe, a quip, something with the sliding edge of delighted sarcasm. He subsides then and she doesn't even know if she prevented anything. 

As long as he doesn't talk to her, she doesn't have to get angry over what he has done. 

He says it isn't his fault but she knows that it is. It has to be because it's nothing she did, nothing she chose. She is not Taurian, she knows nothing of magic and souls and things that can go wrong in a heartbeat. So it is his mistake, not hers and she will not feel bad for him. 

Still, she has promised to help if she can. Protect, as always because that is another thing she does best. She will try and keep both of them safe although the landmarks here are as strange as he is. 

She has only to wait and soon enough his hand steals out to close over her fingers. In her vectored vision his expression is miserable. It translates to his touch, hesitant but strong enough for all that. He needs. The others will see but it has been three days. 

As long as he doesn't talk to her, she doesn't have to be angry about it. Her fingers return the secret pressure, tangling in his. She struggles to keep any acknowledgement from her face, as if she is not holding his hand, as if his fingers are not the wrong color, the wrong shape, not the boy she should be sitting next to. She pretends that nobody else can see. 

She talks then, weaves the words around herself like another kind of armor. She pretends to pay no attention as the color returns to his face, the thin trickle of satisfaction easing the tension around his eyes. He has told her that she should feel it too, the ebb and tide of power. She tells herself she feels nothing except for the slightly sticky, warm tremble of his hand in hers. 

She tells herself she doesn't care what anybody else thinks, she can live with the curious glances that don't come anywhere near to meeting her eyes. If this is all he needs to keep the worst at bay, she can give it. 

Soon enough his fingers withdraw from hers and she tries not to feel the relief that washes through her. She is not comfortable with this. His whispered words are low enough that only she can hear, a murmur of gratitude. Reluctant? She pretends she can't hear the frustration, his own thwarted anger. Perhaps he feels exactly how she feels. 

This is not how it is supposed to be.


	37. Prayerwheel 02

Too many! Too many, too fast, six rushing forward to distract. Trying to trap her into the corner, sweaty faces gleaming under tac helmets. A spray of bullets chips the wall over her shoulder even as she ducks, falls to the side. She can't dodge them all, awkward as she is. There are too many! 

She comes up swinging though, fists ablaze with panic. Arctic air swirls as she pulls more and more out of the lattice, translating energy to kinetic thrust. She's shifting so fast that the world is a sickening blur. One fist connects and she doesn't even look to see what she's done, spinning on one blind heel to reach the next. One down of too many, three more in the corner of her eye falling to a coordinated knee, rifles raising. 

She can't get out of the corner. Trapped. They're too damned far away! 

"Jade!  _ Jade! _ " 

She needs him. Where the hell is he? In a surge she pulls everything, all of it, the air snapping with cold like a thousand hammers. The ones nearest stagger and nearly collapse. She leaps over them, frantic to get away. 

But a fan of steel is in her face, clawing up her armor, ripping her apart. 

She twists, dives to the ground but it's not enough. Not this time. Blood in her mouth, lung shot. She rolls and then runs. 

Corners, corridors, doors. She's out of the line of fire. They're right behind her, they have to be. There is pain as sweet as candy under her tongue. 

Comes to, bracing her shoulders against a wall. Waits in centered calm. How fast can she heal? Her body works relentlessly but they have to be coming. The ice won't form. As fast as she grabs it, it fades. Mist and plasma and gas. No armor. 

"Too slow, Stasis." 

"The hell." 

"I told you we weren't strong enough." 

"The hell, Jade. I'm strong enough for this. I'm stronger than  _ you _ ." 

"Not now. I can't die, remember?" He's leaning with one shoulder to the wall next to her, arms crossed. The ragged flip of familiar hair brushes over one eye. 

"No way. We're supposed to go together, remember? You and me." 

"That was then. You can't even stand up, can you?" 

And she can't. She's sitting down, legs attached to something other than her body. Her hands are shaking. She coughs and swallows more blood without meaning to. 

"Shut up. You don't know what you're talking about. I'll get up in a minute." 

"No, you won't." He's looking at something but not at her. That's okay, she's just resting. In a minute she'll shake it off like always and then she'll pound him. "No more strength for you. You're about finished." 

"Yeah? That's your fault, then." 

That brings anger to his face, tightening his fine boned features. Only for a second though. Only for a moment is he the Peerless she remembers, passion and life and even the fear that just made everything brighter. A heartbeat more and it's gone, submerged. He shrugs under the heavy weave of his gi. She'd shake him if she could. 

"You left me behind. I don't owe you anything anymore." 

The accusation alone pulls her to her feet. Since when do they  _ owe _ each other? The things that are broken inside grate against each other. 

"Yeah? The hell, Jade Rooster. You keep up this time. You keep up or I  _ swear _ I'll leave you behind again." 

"Don't talk to me like that. I'm your equal. I've always been your equal." 

"Then where the hell  _ were _ you!?" 

"I was in your past. Now shut up. They're coming." 

She can hear them then. Breath catches in her throat. She's not ready. Her hand curl into futile fists. 

"The bond will give you strength." 

"Centaurian?" 

"It will give you what you need. What we both need if only you'll let it. I will give it to you. Let me in." 

He slides his shy hand into hers. Golden light sparks like crazy fireflies. They are almost upon them, almost at the corner, she can smell the metal of the guns. A second more and they'll be trapped again. This time she can't fail. She has to protect Kai, prove Jade wrong. She needs to be strong enough for this. 

His hand is warm in hers with fear a white sheet in her mind. She finds she's gripping his fingers tighter and tighter. 

Then in an instant she strips away everything he has to give. 

Energy. Power swarms along the points of their connection, flashes across the lattice. The armor closes over her head like the jaws of an animal, suddenly enough that ice fills her mouth. She swallows it down in a rush. Transmutation of potential, the building and breaking so fast it’s a living thing, a second skin. She's been here before. Perfect, sudden fury. 

"Let me in." 

She looks and his eyes are the wrong dark, the excitement there is hers. He can give her power. All that she can take and more. 

She has only to need it. 

He smiles, white and happy and the deep color of his eyes spreads, stains his skin. The vaudun holds her hand. But the voice that speaks is still Kai's. 

"Let me in. I can be everything you need." 

_________ 

 

She sits upright in bed, teeth clamped so hard her jaw aches. She swallows again and again, tasting blood, tasting ice. Tasting power. 

The words she'd yelled at Jade swirl in her head. Kai's stumbling, frustrated confession. The one glimpse she had of the terrible promise behind the Taurian's eyes. 

Why they ended up in the same dream she has no idea. 

A quick glance shows that at least she wasn't thrashing or anything. Summer's bed is empty, Aeon a dark quietness in hers. She can barely make out the lump that is Erika and if she'd made enough noise to wake up a mouse, trust that Raeder would be awake and pointing it out. 

It takes a few minutes before her heart rate hauls itself out of the stratosphere though and she can finally flop back down on the bed. The nightmare sequence jumbles itself in her head and she scrubs her face as if to make it go away. Moonlight silvers her arms and she inspects them like she's never seen them before, the fine hair glowing like suddenly precious metal. 

Is that who she is? She'd said no. She didn't want power. She didn't want to need anything. She  _ doesn't _ need anything. 

It has to be the magic talking. Maybe it's trying to reach her too, make her be something she's not. Because she's not like that, she isn't. 

The insidious fear makes her stomach tighten though, sends an unintended chill down her backbone. If it's the magic, Centaurian's twisted craving for closeness, how long before she doesn't think it's wrong anymore? She doesn't know anything about magic. Maybe the fact she's dreaming about it says it already has her, sinking fingers into her mind. 

She scrubs her face again hard and tries to laugh it off. Really, that's stupid. She's faced off against the Circle, hasn't she? Mages strong enough to conjure demons straight out of Dante's hell, netherworld portals opening to spew illusions and insanity. One boy's personal compulsion didn't have to mean anything to her. She'd gotten angry with him, hadn't she? Yelled at him? 

Held him while he cried. 

She shifts at that unbidden memory, uncomfortable and then angry. She drops her arms to the bed and twists, clutching the pillow under her head. 

She doesn't know anything about magic. But maybe it's time to find somebody that does. 

Just in case.


	38. Temperature Drop

_ How cold can you get? _

The truth is, she doesn't know. 

It was a silly question and she'd said something flip back, something like  _ as cold as I want _ but she's not actually sure. Just how cold is cold? Sure, she'd sat and daydreamed her way through in Mr. Azumio's Non-Equilibrium Energy Dynamics course, the one that everyone sniggered and called  _ Screwing Up and You _ but most of it had been so far over her head it might as well be sucking vacuum. As long as she could prove she could control herself, that's what counted, right? It's not like it really made a difference how her mutation worked. 

But still, just how cold could she get? Suddenly it was this major question and it made her brain twitch. 

So after biology class, with everybody packing up their books and Roger making a big production with his astronomically huge backpack, she slunk to the door and ever so casually lifted the old mercury thermometer off the wall. 

Really, it was one of her more clever moments. How else did you measure temperature, right? She'd freeze the thermometer and then she'd know exactly the next time somebody asked. She did it all in one motion, grabbing the old relic and slipping out of class, stuffing the evidence under her jacket. As soon as she could she transferred it to her inside pocket. Nobody said anything or seemed to notice, the teacher didn't come charging out yelling, the hall monitor didn't arrest her on the spot. Step one was complete. 

She spun the combination for her locker, banging the door a few times so that it looked good. She tossed her gear at the bottom and thoughtfully toed the bottom metal plate out of habit. It was gonna come loose sooner or later, maybe more sooner than later. She gave it a good luck kick and tried not to look like she was in a hurry, down the hall towards the main double doors. Butter not melting in her mouth, no sir. 

She had this hazy thought that if she got caught, she'd claim it was an experiment. She really ought to get extra credit for it too, she figured. That gear they hooked her up with in the testing rooms didn't mean anything, with the little monitors and things. This was something she'd be able to see with a real number. 

Outside finally, Stasis made a staggered beeline for the edge of the field and the scrubby trees that cushioned the view down towards the driveway and the stone gate. Once there she pressed her back to the nearest bole and breathed a sigh of relief. Step two, the getaway. Check. 

The thermometer looked at her accusingly but she ignored its silent plea. She held it gingerly at the bottom, near the bulb of hazy silver then realised that wouldn't work. The level would go down, not up and she needed to be able to see the low settings. She transferred her grip to the top instead. Okay, now to go about getting cold. 

The first couple of times were a disaster. As soon as she tried, everything froze up, the air started to shiver and crystallise and she couldn't read the little writing through the haze in front of her eyes. She held the thing up to her face but the facets of ice blocking her view made it just impossible. After the third attempt she let it all go and blew mist between her lips in frustration. The little glass tube looked at her smugly. 

Maybe she should have paid more attention to Mr. Azumio instead of thinking about Jai. She knew sort of how it was supposed to work but she'd never tried to narrow it down like this before. She could force it away from herself, she'd proved that, making distance between her body and the transmutation but that didn't much help at the moment. 

Her cheeks heated at the memory and she shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Thinking about that wasn't helpful at all. She didn't want to make something three feet away cold in a desperate bid not to freeze herself at a bad moment; she just wanted to make the thermometer all icy. 

She frowned, pale brows drawing together and focused on her hand. Cold. She just wanted her hand cold, not everything. 

It kept trying to turn into force, the slippery grip of power trying to stick itself to her skin. She concentrated fiercely, willing cold, willing ice, willing the shift from potential  _ there _ to reality  _ here _ . It was giving her a headache; no matter what she tried it kept sliding into the vortex of building pressure, light rising and falling between her fingers. It made her skin crawl because she wasn't discharging it and it kept trying to crawl up her arm like snakes. 

Finally, in desperation she thought of scales, balances, the different sides of those stupid math equations she was supposed to be working on this afternoon. This had to equal that or it was wrong and then she felt it click into place like something finding a home. 

One hand was cold, negative, stripping energy from the valence fields in an exponential stream, faster and faster and it had to go somewhere, be something so she caught it in her other hand, charging the air higher and higher, forcing it to shed as much light as she could because that was safe, light never hurt anything. She could actually feel it runnning through her body, making her heart feel weird in her chest. But then the hand around the thermometer froze so suddenly it caught even her by surprise. The lattice burned itself into her eyes for a second before the ice crawled into the now empty spaces and she was left with a baseball sized diamond around what used to be her fingers. Even better, the thermometer was utterly visible through crystal, with ice so clear it might as well be glass. 

She yipped with excitement. Awright! Experiment successful! She raised her arm up, curious to see what the reading was. 

The mercury hadn't moved anywhere inside the glass. She shook it but it didn't so much as budge, steadfastly remaining at the level it had been before she'd even started. Say what? Oh, this totally wasn't fair! The only thing she could come up with was that she had a bum thermometer, is what. She cursed under her breath, trying to think of every word she'd ever heard Mis use. She shook her hand again. Still nothing. The mercury didn't move an iota. 

Without thinking about it, she ran power back through the ice along its seams and the diamond fell apart in a dozen facets. She'd pulled enough that her other hand was still glowing though and she discharged it, mock punching the air to spread it out. She shook her fingers absently with the tingle. She glared at the thermometer, feeling betrayed. All that work for nothing! 

She narrowed her eyes and sighed. Well, okay. She had the trick now. She'd just have to get another thermometer, one that functioned as advertised and she'd try again. 

She started to throw it away but halted, one eyebrow twitching. She looked at it again. The quicksilver stared back at her, worried. 

Mercury was pretty neat stuff. The one time in science class that Mrs. Engerland had showed them how to make a mercury amalgam, she hadn't let any of them all that close, saying it was all dangerous and stuff. The thermometer was wrecked anyways so why not goof around? 

No sooner thought than put into action. She looked around and then laid the thing on a convenient rock. A second stone came pretty quickly to hand and she hunkered down on her heels. She lined it up and then whacked it near the base, breaking the tube as cleanly as she could. She shook it carefully to get rid of any glass chips and tilted it over her hand, palm cupped to catch the liquid quicksilver. 

Except nothing happened. She waited but it didn't pour. She shook it carefully. Still nothing. Say what? She glared at the little eye of metal which just stared back mutely. It stayed determinedly in its little home, totally unwilling to come out. 

Finally the truth occured to her and she blinked with astonishment. 

She'd frozen the mercury so fast it hadn't had time to react. It had become solid in the tube. 

Awesome! 

She crowed out loud and looked at the bottom reading possible - negative fifty. Obviously mercury could go down something around there so if she'd frozen the stuff that's how cold she could go. Colder, even! That was utterly amazing. 

Neg-a-tive fif-ty. She was one cool customer all right. She grinned at her own silly joke. The next time somebody asked she'd roll that baby off her tongue and look nonchalant about it. Why, that was so cold it might as well be Antarctica or something. 

She gave the thermometer a hero's burial, patting the ground over its remains and planting a twig for its gravestone. It had done well. 

It didn't occur to her until she was out of the trees that she owed Jai an apology. He'd totally been right to be worried. 

Negative fifty was nothing to sneeze at, even if you could dodge bullets.


	39. Remedial Instruction

"Thank you for coming." 

She wriggled uncomfortably in her seat. What, she'd had a choice? Thankfully the words seemed to be rhetorical as Sister Mary Constance didn't seem to expect a response, instead moving the incriminating piece of paper a few more centimeters to the left and folding her hands. From her upside down view she could make out her name on the top of the form. Going by the voluminous writing down one side, it was probably another copy of her last semester's marks. She mumbled something that sounded agreeable and waited for the hammer. 

"Before we start, can I ask if you've been happy at St. Joseph's?" 

What sort of question was that? She mumbled something a little harder, trying to sound both happy and non-committal at the same time, not easy in monosyllables. She'd had a lot of practice with it but apparently that had been some sort of rhetorical question too because the Sister barely paused before going on. 

"When we spoke just after Christmas, there were certain agreements made. Although your test scores were wildly varied, almost all of your teachers were of the opinion that you were trying hard. Now while we understand that not every student is going to make the honor roll, St. Joseph's still requires its students to maintain a certain basic average. We both know that the reason I scheduled this meeting is that you have not upheld your end of our understanding, Tara." 

She mumbled something. 

"Excuse me?" 

"Stasis. My name is Stasis. Not Tara." 

"Oh." Sister Mary Constance re-folded her hands as if caught in the middle of an improper gesture. "I assume that's the name registered on the Paragon City Hero Roster. However, that... moniker is not on the school paperwork nor does it mean anything inside these walls." The older woman took a breath and her speech again attained the staccato tempo of the lecture. "I have spoken to almost all of your teachers as well as Dr. Conrads to follow up on your progress. You have turned in even fewer assignments since the start of this term and there is a remarkable lack of preparation in the ones you have submitted. Your report card will be more full of holes and incompletes than finished marks. This is of course of serious concern." 

"I'll try harder, Sister. Really, I will." 

"That may no longer be enough." 

Stasis swallowed. That didn't sound very good. So she'd missed a few assignments, lots of other people did that. Really, she'd just try a little harder. 

"Let me be very clear. I had a very involved conversation with Dr. Conrads in regards to your initial adjustment to St. Josephs and your subsequent integration with the rest of the school. He believes that you have made significant progress since you first came to us." She reached out to another piece of paper and underscored a few lines with an square cut fingernail. The Sister was obviously prepared for this. "According to his records you are 'socially adjusted and acclimated to triggered onset mutation.' Informally he indicated you are well liked and appear to have no problem relating to your peers. I also spoke at length to Mr. Asumio who has advised me that you have passed all the benchmark control tests he's given to you. Your mutation is perfectly under your conscious control." 

It was really weird listening to the Sister talk about this stuff. In her habit, she looked like she'd be more comfortable talking about... well, nun stuff. Whatever it was that nuns talked about when they weren't praying. She watched the Sister's lips move for a minute before she realised she was supposed to still be listening. 

"... cannot bring your marks up to a minimum grade average, I am afraid we will have to transfer you to another school. One that specialises in remedial instruction." 

"What? Heyla?" 

"Really, Tara. While St. Joseph's does its best for all its students, there are some things we are simply not set up to help with. You need more personalised attention in the scholastic areas of achievement and while you have been recommended for a number of those programs here, your attendance and effort have been, quite frankly, sporadic at best. After discussion with the Headmaster, we have come to the conclusion that it may be best for you to attend elsewhere if you cannot show that you can meet the school's requirements. Your powers are no longer a determining factor in your continued enrollment and we only want what's best for you in the long term." 

Send her away from St. Joseph's? The reaction was gut deep and just as swiftly cut off. 

"St. Joseph's will, of course, maintain formal guardianship of you until you turn of age but your attendance may be better served elsewhere, possibly at Korvus who run an excellent remedial program." 

Send her away from St. Joseph's? 

The rest of the lecture went by in a daze. When she was finally dismissed she nodded her agreement, promised faithfully to do better, to try harder. She walked out of the room without looking back, not really thinking of anything at all. 

Send her away? 

__________ 

She sat at the clever little desk wedged at the foot of her bed. She'd hunched her shoulders against the clicking of Summer's keyboard but it didn't stop the noise from driving into the base of her skull. Whatever the other girl was writing, it had to be good to judge by the self satisfied smack of each key. Probably some dramatic editorial or other that Summer wouldn't post, all freaked out after the last one had blown up so bad. 

The quad was half gloom, dim enough that the dusty swing lamp made a noticeable arc of light on her homework. Two hours had yielded a half page of careful writing. She flipped the front of the textbook over.  _ Civilization, Then and Now. _ Socials homework; they were supposed to give three parallels between ancient Greek law and current Paragon reforms. Problem was, she hadn't done any research into the statutes in the city and half the words in the text she didn't understand anyways. 

She managed to crib about this much by comparing words out her painful memory and sounding out a few more, but for the last twenty minutes she'd stopped even pretending she'd get any further. She flipped the pencil between her fingers. 

The door opened and she looked; just Erika. The other girl tossed her pack carelessly onto her bed, looking over at her quadmates with her usual non committal expression. Her glance fell on the scattering of paper. 

"Getting anywhere, Snowflake?" 

Stasis grinned, feeling something tighten ominously. "Are you kidding?" She leaned back, tipping the chair onto two legs and chucking the pencil at her headboard. Careful. "I'm going to have to say that Bailey ate my homework again. That poor dog is going to gain sixty pounds by the end of the year, I swear." 

"Maybe if you took the time to read your assignment, you'd do better." Erika didn't seem inclined to argue about it though, throwing herself on her bed and reaching for a pair of headphones. Stasis looked at her homework; the awkward, cramped handwriting and suddenly felt like she was choking. She stood abruptly, causing the sound of Summer's keyboard to stop in irritation. She crammed the papers into the single drawer, tossing the textbook after it. 

"You guys are boring. I'm gonna go get some air." 

"I'm not covering you again if you're gone after curfew." 

"Thanks, Raedar. You're all heart, you know that?" 

"Kisses." 

She went out the window for the hell of it and to annoy the brunette. She balanced on the sill, feeling the sharp breeze strike her face. The central quad was quiet enough. She turned and grabbed the eave, hauling herself up with the ease of never forgotten practice. 

Sent away. 

Erika would probably declare it a national holiday.


	40. After School Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: co-written with Playboy's writer.

The alarm wailed like an upset child even through the ice. 

She hit the doors in a blinding rush, the adrenalin pumping tempo into her blood. Registered that half the lights were out and most of the remainder flickered gamely as if unwilling to give up entirely. At least one sprinkler had triggered somewhere and the surfeit of water in the air hit her lungs, solidified with eagerness around her limbs. 

Guards, on the ground. Dead, maybe but definitely unconscious and unhelpful. Broken railings, an overturned kiosk, a mess of paper littered across the floor. A teller cowered on the floor but she ignored him, moving farther into the room. 

She'd heard the scanner and she'd needed something, anything to distract herself. A fight would be welcome right now. Longbow had yet to arrive and she wanted it that way. Just a little longer, let them be delayed, let them be anything they liked but here. She needed this today for reasons she didn't feel like examining. 

There was aborted movement in the corner of her eye and she whirled, charging a fist but it was nothing, just somebody trying to hide behind an overturned table. Whoever had come through here had been messy, maybe unnecessarily. Family, maybe? They had a reputation for being brutal. 

She ran down a series of corridors, leaving the question of whatever passed for criminal thinking for another time, jumping a cluster of cold-cocked security guards. It was too easy; like a trail of breadcrumbs leading straight to the vault. The crying alarm said she was still in good time. 

The thief was there, stuffing wads of wrapped bills into bags like a kid in a candy-store spree. The heavy door stood half-off its hinges from the force of whatever had blown it apart. She spent a half-second trying to place the crook's affiliation but with no insignia or logos, no tell-tale zombies or henchmen, she wrote him off as an independent. An grin spread in an unconscious rictus across her mouth. Yes, just what she needed. 

"Halt, thief!" she yelled, even as she moved to engage. She'd always loved saying that. It was right out of the comic books. Misericorde would probably have appreciated it most. 

He moved, startled. She registered a face covered in a blue mask over nose and mouth. Hair scraped under a cap. Blue armored combat pads, straight out of the Isles. Dark brows lowered over blue eyes. "Hello," he said gruffly. "And good-bye." A brilliant glow flashed in her eyes. 

Gone. 

She cursed her damned luck.  _ Stalkers _ . And here she'd been hoping for a straight-up fight. 

"Get back here!" She blinked furiously and concentrated. Faster and faster, stripping the air, pulling cold around herself like a blanket. 

She whirled her head around then, senses heightened, looking for a hint for the direction of the sucker-punch. Greenbacks freed from paper wrappings skirled across the floor. She turned, turned again on a sliding heel. 

The hit got her square in the back, throwing her across the room. She skidded, the breath knocked out of her lungs as the floor rushed up. Whoever he was, he packed a hell of a hit. She laughed. Maybe this could be fun. 

"Yeah, you wanna play then?" she whispered. "Let's see how you do with  _ this _ ." 

Security level fifty wasn't just a pin, it was knowing what to use, when to use it. He'd messed up, maybe panicked at her appearance and he'd only manged to push her back to the door. The only way out of the vault. 

She scrambled to her feet and then into the opening, listening with her eyes nearly closed. The ice sighed around her but she waited. Trusted. He had to get out before anyone else got here and unless he'd managed phasing he was screwed. She wouldn't worry about phasing. 

The next one came into her ribs, hard enough to send a sheet of pain washing over everything, trying to push her back and away. Once out the door she'd never find him. Yet for that beautiful second he was there, nearly in the circle of her arms. He was crouched, the dark hood nearly on level with her waist, expecting her to lash over his head. She snapped a knee up instead, making solid contact with his chin. 

Maybe he wasn't as good at this as he thought he was. There was a wordless groan of pain as he fell back, the pitch of his voice a soothing mellow tenor. Young. She grinned, sure this fight was over. Too bad, so sad. The ice shifted and faded, freeing her for movement. She cocked her arm back, already adding him mentally to the list of people she'd sent to the Zig. 

"You are  _ so a _ rrested." 

He looked her in the eyes. Some emotion flashed there. Defiance ... fear? Something. 

"No," he said. Bursts of kinetic energy crackeld into the air, blinding her again. She swung out in sudden understanding, heard him scramble to get up, get away. Her fist smashed into the floor just that heartbeat too late with enough force to dent the steel. He wasn't there. 

Damn it,  _ damn it _ . She cursed under her breath, reaction tumbling over itself. If he was smart he'd run now and blocking the door wasn't an option since she'd abandoned it, going for the obvious. Atlas above, she hated stalkers. 

One knee on the ground, she thought  _ cold _ . Cold upon cold upon glacier, arctic wind spreading out in a concentric circle. She'd make sure he couldn't run fast at least, cramped with limbs that wouldn't want to move. Sapping energy, sapping speed. Out of the corner of her eye, something teased. Blood pulsed at her temple as she spun, rising to her feet because the hell she was letting him get away that easy. 

In sudden inspiration she thrust out both hands. 

She couldn't see him, but she felt the rush of air that signified his presence. He was running. Ice spread from her fingertips, smoothing out the floor into a sheet of glass that formed and faded. She heard him skitter and fall though, losing his balance. Yes! She ran to the sound, sprinting around the corner of the door into the hallway beyond. 

The overloaded bags of money appeared nearly at her feet, thrown beyond the scope of his shield. No possible way she could see it coming and there was no way to avoid it and like a klutz, like an all-day sucker, she tripped on the discarded bounty. 

She landed so hard she saw stars again, cash mashed up against her face. 

This wasn't going like she planned, not at all. What was  _ with _ this guy? She'd never had anybody just run away like this. Usually they fought like cornered rats and they sure never threw away the money. 

He'd given up. The bills in front of her face said she could go home now, in good conscience, duty done. Another day saved. 

She shoved herself back to her feet. No way. She wanted a fight after this, somebody owed her a fight. She was going to get him, it had become personal somewhere in the last minute. It shouldn't be hard. He was flagging now. Desperate to get away for some reason. Sloppy. 

She ran. Down the hallway, around another corner, in and out of the offices in the bank. There was a thick, excited taste on the back of her tongue with the sudden chase. She was going to catch him, she was. A door was punched off its hinges ahead of her and she ran for it, knowing he was close enough to almost touch. Faster. She had to be faster. Catch him before he got outside. 

They blew through the front entrance of the bank, invisible dog on her leash of cold. Motion alone told her where he was, things that were thrust out of the way. If he held still, maybe he'd lose her but he kept moving, making it easy. For a second she saw his imprint on a window as the snapping waves of cold pouring off her body frosted the glass around his shadow. 

Out into the streets of Independence Port. 

Sound alone kept her on track although she was hardly aware of how hard she was concentrating, listening for the telltale shush of flight. Hands bunching, a slushball of ice coalesced in her palm. She threw it, then another, and once again. 

One disrupted his shield and she saw the dark hood flicker back into reality. Ice formed again between her fingertips without thought even as the frigid air burned her lungs and she threw it. Hard, as hard as she could and hit him in the shoulder, half jerking him around. She put on another a burst of speed. 

She reached and grabbed his arm, triumph hissing a sound between her teeth. Yes! He yelled, spinning but she had momentum on her side now. She wrenched him around, used the arm like a fulcrum. Tossed him up into the air without deciding it, control lost and he spun up, up like a doll. Came down out of sight. 

She jumped to follow, victory like wine in the tightening of muscle. The sign flashed in front of her eyes, a bookstore of some sort. He was sprawled on his back on the flat roof and his arm - his left arm looked odd, long and floppy. His eyes were closed tight, the scrim of his mask in front of his mouth bellying in as he sucked in mouthfuls of air. She took three strides forward and straddled his chest, reaching for the mask. 

He kicked to the right between her legs, overbalancing her awkward crouch. His mask tore as they rolled away, leaving a thin thread of blood to trickle down his face. 

He got up slowly then, facing away. To his knees, his feet. His body remained averted, the pale color of his hair sticking in damp strands to his skin, darkest at the temples. 

She frowned. Licked her lips as she rose as well, ready to chase again, catch again. He didn't make any effort to run though which was weird. This whole damned arrest had been weird right from the start. They never ran. 

"You gonna give up now?" She waited a second. "Because we can do this some more if you like. You got another arm." 

He shrugged awkwardly, pain evident in the movement. But he turned, cradling his dislocated arm against his torso. It took an age for his head to turn. The curve of cheekbone, the straight profile of his nose. The clear color of his eyes. 

She'd only seen them before smiling, charming. Wanting to be her friend. Happy to be her friend. 

No. 

" _ Rhodie? _ " 

The frown that split the other's face was something she'd never seen before either. Dark. A little vicious. 

"Not one more word, Petal. Your comm is admissible as evidence." He relaxed then as if his voice broke something, poised there on the suddenly alien roof. A shift of intent and he was suddenly more in control than she was. "Don't fuck me over." 

She swallowed, trying to claw it back. This couldn't be happening. Not him. Surely not him. What stupid ass game was he  _ playing _ ? She hit her comm hard, cutting it off. 

"This isn't funny, Rhodie. I could have really hurt you." She clenched her fist, feeling the material she'd snatched ball up between her fingers. 

"So I should be grateful you only busted my arm? For shame." 

"I didn't know it was you!" 

His nostrils flared. "Would that have made a difference?" he asked. He advanced then without warning and she took a step back. "Put your hand here," he said, patting a place on his torso near his shoulder." She did it without thinking, the hard armor tight under her grip. His eyes laughed into hers and with a quick one-two jerk, his dislocated arm popped back into place. His face paled to milk white but he made no other protest. 

"Yes! No! What were you  _ doing _ ?" She was desperate for an explanation she could believe. Maybe he was lost. Maybe it had been on a dare. It seemed impossible. 

"What did it look like, Petal?" 

She took a deep breath, not sure of what to say but wanting desperately to yell, to get upset. Villains robbed banks.  _ Bad guys _ robbed banks. Not Rhodie. Not J. Elias Meriwether. 

He grabbed his mask out of her hand and jammed it back over his head. Safe behind the concealment, the stranger smiled at her and inclined his head in the barest acknowledgement. Of what she didn't know. 

"Meet me at Pocket D in an hour," he said simply. He turned and took off, his slim body winging away into the abnormal afternoon. 

It didn't occur until minutes later that she could have stopped him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rhodie is short for Rhododendron. Ah, nicknames.


	41. Coyote Date

There was no reason to wake up. 

Which was good because she didn't want to be awake. The angle of brightness said it was much too early, no need to open her eyes, no need to go anywhere or be anything. Her limbs were distorted with gravity and heavy. 

She just wanted to sleep some more. Sleep. Covering weight shifted and warm breath ghosted along her jaw. 

Sleep. 

She opened her eyes. 

The ceiling looked just like always. The smooth paint was darker to the left and uneven with the spider cracks that ran almost to the window. Her quad in St. Joseph's. Familiarity in everything she saw, looking up. No unknown angles, no surprising curves. She was on her back, sprawled out akimbo on her own bed. Nothing wrong with that, nothing frightening. 

The weight moved again, made a small sound, settled. Something uncomfortable dug into her hip. 

Stasis stared at the ceiling as if willing it to change. The dream heaviness of her body resolved itself into a dark head on her shoulder. There was a leg tangled between hers. Her left arm was pinned and dead numb, fingers spread and lax. It might be what had woken her up. She was warmer than she could ever remember being. 

One breath, two; blown out in a tremble. She looked down. 

They were on top of the bed, still wearing the clothes from last night. Her tank top had rucked itself up to nearly under her breasts, exposing the cool gleam of flesh. No shoes, thankfully. The nagging discomfort seemed to be Erika's buckle belt pressing into protruding bone. 

What the hell? 

Stasis didn't move. Didn't even dare to blink. Carefully, as if even thinking too hard might tilt them both off the world, she tried to remember. 

Motion and fighting, the endless run through steel corridors. Eric and Alex. Erika. Her quadmate had been juiced, strung so tight from the stress of the security interview that even Stasis could see it, nearly smell it. She'd applied the only bandaid she'd known how. Run and keep running until the fury outside balanced the stillness within. 

Afterwards the party had been great, more so because Jai had been there, unexpected still for all that she knew every line of his face. Listening to everyone talk, listening to Kali sing under the jukebox. She'd known something was wrong then because the song had been sad for all the laughter in the air. She'd left then, hadn't she? Yes, she and Kali. Friends did things for friends so she'd left, left Jai, left the party girl. 

She tensed one slow muscle at a time in a cascading question. 

What then? 

Faultline. She remembered taking the train to Faultline, following the dim command of the private channel that was never dead. She'd found them already in the hot tub. Jai had looked so fine in his bright shorts, so relaxed in the water under the halogens. Erika had been quiet but something had eased somewhere; something that the running and the fighting maybe hadn't been able to do. Kali's voice had still been a thickness on her skin like an overlay of acceptance, so she hadn't questioned, sitting down at the edge of the tile. Jai had been talking of the Carnival, the enthusiasm in his voice like a deep bell against Erika's murmured curiosity. 

She'd been so tired. She hadn't meant to drift off but she must have. She remembered only stretching out, pillowing her cheek on her arm, listening. 

Jai's voice and the sound of water. Memory of then and now. Erika. Soft laughter like a dark hand on her cheek. 

None of which explained how'd they'd gotten back to the quad. Why Erika wasn't in her own bed. Why her left arm had that ugly non-feeling that meant serious pain eventually. 

The ceiling still wasn't providing any answers. Worse, Erika's breathing had evened out again, her weight spread and relaxed. 

What did they call it? A coyote date? Where you'd chew off your arm at the elbow in order to get away before your partner woke up. 

Did she really, really want to move right now? Wake Erika? Did she really want to know the answers to whatever she'd missed last night? 

No. 

No, she didn't. 

Stasis closed her eyes. 

It was too early to be awake anyways. 

Sleep.


	42. Sushi Q Saves The Day

"I look like a dork." 

Sushi pinched the bridge of her nose. "You do not," she said encouragingly. "I'm sure you look great." 

"How do you know? I haven't even come out yet." 

"Look, who did you ask to go shopping with you? Me. Why? Because I know what I'm doing. So when I tell you you look fantastic you are going to believe me. Now get out here already." 

There was a muffled sound and something that might have been a curse word but of course Stasis never swore. That word must have come from the next changeroom over. The curtain finally pulled back and the blonde girl stepped into the little hallway. 

"Is this stuff supposed to show this much of me? I feel like I'm flapping in the wind here." 

Sushi Q smiled. Okay, so it did show more of the fair haired girl than she'd ever seen before but it did look great, no question. Her friend had a body and there was nothing wrong with showing it off. The white over-and-under wrap skimmed spare curves and made what could only be considered a modest contribution to the world look like more than it was. The matching white jeans looked as soft as velvet with a trim little belt to draw attention to the narrow waist and rock hard abs. 

It was tasteful, it was understated, it was gorgeous... it was only eighty dollars. 

"If you've got it, flaunt it - and you've got it, you're flaunting it and guy radar is going to go off all over the city with that getup." 

"That's it, I'm changing right now." Stasis turned on one heel. Sushi grabbed her arm, sighing. 

"You are not. Didn't you say you wanted to dress up? Didn't you tell me you wanted to feel like maybe you weren't a scarecrow for once? Didn't you say you were tired of being somebody's redneck cousin?" 

"Okay, okay! No need to rub it in, holy. And I didn't say anything about being anybody's redneck cousin." 

Sushi Q rolled her eyes and took her friend by the shoulders, turning her squarely to face the full length mirror at the end of the hall. "Close enough to what you did say. Look. Imagine that's not your face in the mirror. Look at the rest and tell me you don't like it." 

"I look like a dork." 

"I have no idea why you weren't drowned at birth. Would you just look already?" 

Stasis plucked at one seam with two fingers, rubbing her thumb over the thick denim fabric. She crossed her arms over the midriff top and cocked her hip. Dropped her arms and hooked her thumbs into the tiny pockets. She frowned at her reflection for a moment but then a small smile quirked one side of her mobile lips. 

"Not so bad then, heyla?" 

"Not so bad. God, keep this up and maybe you'll get your ears pierced." 

The St. Joseph student snorted, studying herself some more. "As if. Last thing I need is holes where I'm not supposed to have any." Stasis took a few steps towards the mirror and then turned, looking at herself from the side. "I look like I'm from Ethiopia or something. No tits either."

"There's always surgery," Sushi remarked dryly. Stasis grinned. 

"Ayuh, I'll totally keep that in mind when the pain gets unbearable. Sush?" 

"What?" 

"Will this make boys look at me?" 

Eye rolling strain was a definite possibility. She'd have to cut back pretty soon or risk injury. "Stas?" 

"Yeah?" 

"That outfit will make straight girls look at you." 

The blonde turned a little and looked over her shoulder at the mirror, inspecting the rear view. "Ah yeh? Well, perfect." 

Interesting. "C'mon JLo, let try some more stuff on before you get all diva on me and we end up having to peel you out of that gear with the jaws of life." 

Sushi chivvied the girl back into the change room, mentally wondering what else she could add onto the tab. A hat was probably out but maybe a second belt? Something metal silver would probably look nice. And there was those couple of stores on the third floor they should probably look at. 

This might prove to be a fun trip after all.


	43. Don't Take It To Heart

_ Why don't you date anybody, Stasi? _

Boys, she decided, were dumb. Even boys that weren't actually boys at all. It was like being a guy just made you automatically clueless about some things, like blinders on a horse or those cheap sunglasses you couldn't see anything through. 

The well worn litany in her mind went downhill from there. By the time she ran out of loose pieces of concrete and gravel to chuck over the edge of the roof, and had started to pry bits up with her fingers, she felt only marginally better about the whole thing. She blew the ragged hair out of her eyes and wondered about going through the list again. If Kali had been there to egg her on it might have been worth it. 

Was it so difficult a concept? He'd seemed to understand just about everything else she'd babbled on about as they'd gone from door to door, the shared bag of candy and treats getting bigger and heavier. At least he'd said he'd understood - maybe he'd just been making agreeable noises at her because it's not like she'd know any different. Apparently her track record for explaining stuff was about as good as always. The only time she knew anything was going wrong was when it blew up in her face. 

How could he possibly get mad at her though? It was so obvious! Just because she'd gotten mad a little back didn't mean she was any less right. 

She chucked a final piece over the side, hard enough to wrench her shoulder. She grimaced and then gave up, wrapping her arms around her knees. No, really. She was right. Just because he didn't like it didn't make it less true. 

He wasn't a boy. He  _ wasn't _ . Sure, he looked like one and he was friendly and nice to be around. But he wasn't, he was a sun-ball of light who only sometimes looked like something that ought to go to school. Sure, he'd told her what he was, he hadn't tried to lie about it or disguise it. But that wasn't the same as actually seeing it. There was probably some sort of lesson in that, about being happy to accept the surfaces of things even when you know different. At least Kai's differences had been right in front of her. 

She shifted, uncomfortable. The ugly little word of prejudice tried to whisper itself in the corner of her mind but she squashed it before it got half going. She liked Nova just fine. She even liked him as a sun-ball although he sure sounded funny when he talked. She'd seen so many weird things at school that shapeshifting into sunshine hadn't done much more than make her blink. Really, that wasn't the problem. It  _ wasn't _ . 

No, what she didn't like was how he'd gone on and on about wanting to know what to do to flirt with the girls he'd met, how to go about maybe getting a date with one. Like it was some sort of grand experiment, figuring out what to do with the feelings he had. Like... like a kid. Not serious about it at all, not like it was  _ supposed _ to be if you really felt something. 

And that was fine, she told herself. If he dated somebody like Brianna or Pluto... or, well anybody who wouldn't take it to heart, it'd be just fine. She'd  _ told _ him that. As long as it wasn't serious, it wouldn't matter if he wasn't exactly what he looked like. 

Something mean and ugly right next to the word prejudice piped up and reminded her that for a sun-ball, he'd sure managed to end up awfully good looking. All blonde and muscles and those wings that just made you want to run fingers through the feathers to see if they were as soft as they looked, as warm as they looked. He'd probably be dating half the school in a week if he wanted to. When he wanted to. 

And that was fine too, she told herself. She put her chin on her knees and felt unaccountably prickly. He had no right to get mad at her. She'd explained it just fine. Maybe she hadn't had a chance to say all of it, why she felt the way she did, but he'd gotten mad because he hadn't been listening to what she'd actually  _ said _ and then she'd gotten mad right back and that wasn't her fault this time because he was the one who'd started it. 

So there. 

She jerked her chin up aggressively as if he was right in front of her and she demolishing him with her inescapable argument. She felt better for a few seconds. 

_ Why don't you date anybody, Stasi? _

The answer hovered on the tip of her tongue like a butterfly too afraid to fly away.


	44. Faultline

Most people are only born once. 

Sounds sort of stupid, doesn't it? Of course you're only born once, that's how it works. You live, you die and somebody somewhere eventually gets around to counting the coup from the middle. Only... not me. Somehow, not me. 

The name is Overbrook but in reality it's Faultline. Pulled apart and crazy cracked down the middle by a guy who thought he knew exactly what he was doing, just like the rest of us. Although what do I know, maybe he did know. Maybe it really was supposed to be exactly like this; all messed up like another Hollowing, only this time perfectly on purpose. 

They're rebuilding it now, piece by piece, trying to fit it back together again which is sort of strange when you think about it. You can't really fix something that's broken that bad because it'll always want come apart again where it's weak. Still, I guess people have to try. 

It's quiet on the upper roads near the east Wall, there's hardly any traffic at all this afternoon. Every so often a truck goes by like a rumbling question, shaking the ground. Even when I can't see them I can feel the tremble under my boots as I walk along, kicking stones on the sidewalk, kicking dirt, trying to kick out an answer. 

The Pinnacle was empty and for the life of me I can't figure out if I'm disappointed or relieved. I sure could have used the distraction, somebody else with all their problems which will be nothing like mine. It wouldn't even have mattered who or what because it's not like I'd really be listening, would I? Well, if it was somebody I liked, maybe. Just to be able to hang out and listen to anything else but the inside of my own head. 

I'm pretty good at figuring out things to say that sound good even when I'm not really there. I'm a pro at it by this point. I can talk a mile a minute when I get going, faster than blazes, faster than most people can keep up, faster than most people even want to deal with and that's the whole point, isn't it? Scowl at the ground but it doesn't care in the slightest that I've got ice for brains. Too much talking, nowhere near enough listening and who's fault is that anyways? 

Fault, fault, fault, all my fault. I have to laugh because damned if that's not sort of funny. There's a gridwalk to the left leading across the top of one of the many levees and I take it, letting my new boots ring on the steel. It’s a carefree sound, strong, confident. The sluggish water is held back here in a series of cascading steps, carefully restricted all the way down to the main river where it flows free again. Well at least as free as it can be, heading to the wider port of Independence. The grid grows a handrail and becomes a matching staircase, heading down. It’s easy enough keep going because at least the feet are moving even if the brain doesn't really want to. 

Are we friends? I'd managed to blurt that one out with the time all but gone, courage that I'm supposed to have so much of but can never find for this kind of thing, never when I need it most. It's a simple question or it's supposed to be, it has a yes or no answer. Are we friends, Jai? Just ask, right, just ask and who cares if it sounds desperate, if it's all I can think about. Just say the words and let him tell me what what's going on like he always does. Only of course it's never that easy, not with the vaudun. 

Because one person can't answer for 'we', can they? And he didn't even pretend, all dark and quiet. An answer that was only half of what I wanted to hear, just his side, saying friends, sure, I'm your friend. What is that supposed to mean anyways? That I'm not? Not his friend or not mine? Okay, it's what I asked but it's not what I meant, not what I was trying so hard to say, what he had to have known I was fumbling so hard to figure out. 

I can feel anger, like always, a muted echo under my heart like the tremble under my heels from yet another distant truck. That's why it's my fault, why it's always going to be my fault. Anger is always easier than understanding. Anger is always easier than just about anything. C'mon Stas, why didn't you just ask what you really wanted to know? How could that answer hurt any worse than this one? 

Like Raeder's last comment, her stupid last minute dig. Don't fuck it up again, Stasis. As if I'd meant to do it before, as if it had been something I'd planned. As if it's something I have any control over. 

I hate feeling helpless. I hate feeling like no matter what I do, no matter how much courage I figure I've got and no matter what gamble I take, I can't make it come out like it's supposed to. Nothing matters until it matters and then it matters too much. How come I can't be like.. like... I don't know. Kali maybe, who dated half the class before she went ga-ga over Jack. She always had a ton of boyfriends. I need a ton of boyfriends. 

Except I don't want a ton of boyfriends. Do I? God, this is so stupid. Hop over the last landing to crunch down onto the ground with both heels. 

Down at the bottom it's definitely colder with the sun trying to reach curious fingers down and through the overhead girders. Every fifteen feet it feels like there's a fence or warning sign, marking off the city planner's grand vision in little squares. There's more people down here than than were above although I guess that's not too strange since this is where the action is, after all. 

Pick my way closer to the river and there's a barge moored out on a long jetty. Something in the shape of it reminds me of another place and the sound of crying voices in the fog. Down here you'd think you'd smell the water more but it’s mostly oil and rust, the scent of old concrete from the buildings they're trying to save and those they're trying to bring all the way down. 

I gave up a while ago trying to figure out if the one I used to jump from is still standing. It doesn't matter anymore really, just another thing I can't go back to.

I'm walking by yet another section of construction when something, I don't even know what catches my eye, pulls me up. I know that profile, don't I? 

"Heyla?" I'm already calling out before I realize maybe it's not a great idea. But the guy turns and sure enough, it's him. The moped he's sitting on dies finally, sputtering into aggrieved silence. "Well heyla, Quasimodo! What are you doing down here?" There's something wrong because it looks like he grew a hunchback since the game last week. 

Nigel grins, peeling the tacky white helmet off. His hair is plastered to one side so for a second he sort of looks like he just woke up, at least until he runs a hand through it, messing it up a different way. "Making some money." He hefts a strap across his chest. The bizarre looking hump suddenly resolves itself into a backpack with plastic tubes that rattle. "Dropping some stuff off. What about you?" He looks up and back, as if automatically trying to see the annexed hot tub by the Pinnacle. 

I already feel awkward. I don't really know Nigel that well. I mean, we hung around that one afternoon but the less said about that the better. I know he's dating one of the cheerleaders but I couldn't even tell you which one. 

"Ah hey, just following my feet around." Wince as the automatic phrase hits my lips, half me, half Trinidad and how long is it going to take until I stop saying it, stop hearing myself slurring when I'm happy, when I'm startled? "I didn't know you had a job." 

"Well, I don't actually. Friend of mine asked if I'd cover for today, he's got some sort of family thing. I could use the cash so why not? I've been up and down these elevators all day." He pats the moped as if it’s a good dog, swinging his leg off. He stands there for a second, hesitating, probably trying to figure out if he should walk over or not. I raise a hand. He's got things to do and doesn't need me in his face. 

A big truck somewhere up on the road rumbles by and the ground trembles. A fine dust billows up, casting a haze for a second. 

Then a second, larger truck goes by and it’s not a truck at all, it hasn't been a truck all along. The ground  _ shifts _ a half step to the left and drops. 

Nigel staggers, the moped losing its balance entirely. I windmill, down to one knee. 

The fear is instantaneous. Look up, heartstruck cold. The world isn't supposed to do that. The ground isn't supposed to be able to  _ move _ like that. 

For a heartbeat, two, there's nothing. I can taste the breath in the back of my throat. I'm crazy conscious of the buttressed steel above me. The rising construction, the depth of the hole I'm standing in. Holy, holy. I can feel individual grains of dirt under my spread fingers as if I'm trying to hold everything together. 

Something sighs, a sound that's hard to place. 

_ Get up. Get up. It's just a tremor. Just a little earthquake. No big deal. Get up.  _ I stand, knees bent like I'm not sure. I'm not sure. Look over at Nigel whose face has to be as white as mine. 

"You feel that?" Stupid question.

The world shrugs its answer. This time the ground finds me before I can do anything about it, hard between the shoulders. Far above I can see the sway and shiver as things that aren't supposed to flex like rubber, do. There's a faraway noise, like popcorn.  _ Rat. Atat. Ata _ . Rivets popping, I think. A cat crying which is the shear of metal somewhere.

Something grumbles. It's right out of my nightmares. Deep and wounded, the resonance shakes everything. I scramble up, not wanting to be on my back, not wanting to be helpless. I know that sound.

This time it's the levee breaking.

Up and up and up again, the concrete walls rise in steps. It's meant to hold back this little water until it can be drained safely, until the Faultline can be swallowed entirely by the distant Overbrook. One of the smooth curves is broken by a wandering dark line, widening in a smile even as I watch. An edge gives a little more, crumbles into a grin and water shoulders itself impatiently into the gap.

Funny the things that cross your mind when you realize you're going to die.

I used to have to touch things, you know. I used to have to be in contact with things, put my hands on what I wanted. Strip it bare in order to be what my fucked up body tells me it needs to be. 

I used to be helpless to it. I still am, maybe. 

But I don't have to touch things anymore. 

I've spread my fingers again as if I can make things still. Stop moving. Don't move. Be silent. I don't want to die.

"Stasis!" 

The first shocking cascade hits me. I can't see it but I know that ice is spreading up the concrete, a flimsy tissue barrier. Blow out breath that is suddenly cold enough to cause scars and whirl, punch down into the ground. Will I cause another earthquake? Yes. Maybe. I don't know, but it has to go somewhere. I can't hold it. There's too much water.

"Stasis! We've got to get out of here!" 

Nigel. He's too close. Edging too close with the snapping white on the ground, sudden frost like a warning marker. My voodoo circle. There's forgotten, frightened lightning arcing between his hands, sparking in his eyes.

_ "Stas!" _

It's breaking. The levee is too big, too big for just me, the pressure coming to bear on the one place that can't hold it anymore, the ice I just made already disappearing under the strain. Everything wants to break along its fault. I can hear myself screaming and I grab, pull, seal it again, as much as I can. Discharge it without finesse into the air and the shockwave ripples.

"Nigel!" So much power. "Nigel!" I don't want to die. Not like this. Not again.  _ "Get help!" _

I can hear him cursing, high and scared. Then he bolts, gone. 

It's weird but I can actually hear myself breathing. You'd think you wouldn't notice something like that but I do.

Everyone always thinks the ice is the cause. It's what they see, of course. Everybody believes in what they see. Ice cubes like birds, watch me pull them out of the air like a magician's trick. Spread my fingers and sight through them like I can actually see what I'm doing. Haul a fist back and the red flower blooms, flares into life. 

Ice is the effect. Raw power is the cause.

Another section flash freezes, digging implacably cold fingers into the concrete. It's stupid. I'm destroying as much as the water is, each time it washes away the latticed crystals the hole is going to be bigger. But I don't know how to do anything else. Punch down, dissipating energy into the only place that can take it, take it up again with the other hand. Void. Pull.

Fight. 

Rocks howl at the base of the dam, rise up to smash themselves into the breach in an orgy of excitement, smear into mud. Somebody. Earth mage, somebody is trying to help. Ice and earth. Plug the hole. Race the crack up the wall, struggling to hold it.

Eat more power, the dancing of the smallest things frozen to feed me, no more energy left for them to move. Volatile water, so easy to break apart, peel into pieces. Ice. More ice. Seal the rocks that rise to meet me, mortar them in. 

Fight.

Win.

We can't win.

There's too much. Too much water, too much pressure. Too much fault to fix. Still, you have to try, right?

It's foregone. The crack streaks up like a zipper and that's it. Look up and I can see it crumbling, shredding, coming apart like confetti. It's almost... almost beautiful. Things you can't control have their own perfection. Just like anger.

I hope Nigel made it out. 

One breath.

Two. 

The last thing I remember is thinking this is not how I want to die. 

Jai, I don't want to die.

___________________

 

Only it's never that easy, is it?

The Girl That Died And Lived Again And Died Again and sure, I'm still alive now. I'm not Lycia to tell you anything from after the end, Cinderella married and hating her mother in law or in Lish's case trying to dodge Adamastor who's apparently some sort of undead lech. That's two lives now, right? Somebody's counting out there, I'm sure. 

They say a couple of people died in the tremor, one when a shaft collapsed only nobody knew he was down there. I hope it was quick, that's all I can say. The Overbrook itself held, of course because they built that to last. I don't even want to think about how much worse it could have been.

They say I can go home tomorrow. 

When I've got nothing else to do apparently I heal up awful quick. Relentless machine of a body, pulling energy from the smallest places, all the time, making things stop so that I can keep going. If you stand too close to me, you might notice that it's a little cold. It's not usually so bad of course but at the moment the nurses don't really want to hang out in my room any longer than they have to. 

They don't know, of course. I'm just one of a bunch of people that got busted up a little when the dam broke and flooded the lower level of Faultline. Wrong place, wrong time and I'm good with that. 

Thing is, we held the levee, me and him. Long enough anyways that most of the crews got out of the fault, one guy actually forcing some Arachnos pilot to fly him out by threatening him with a hammer. He made the news - the hammer guy that is, not the Arachnos guy. I thought that was pretty fascinating stuff myself. The things people do when they think they're not going to make it.

I still don't know who the earth mage was. If he's alive I'm sure he has no idea who I am either.

Look over and it's Nigel in the doorway and I bet the magazine under his arm is Motorcycle Weekly. I hope his cheerleader girlfriend realizes that she's going be eating at fast food joints for the next year instead of going out for nice dinners. 

Pretend I don't notice the gloves and the sweater. It's really not my fault I can't get out of here until tomorrow. 

And it's not like I can tell myself to stop healing.


	45. Chanticleer

"Tell me again." 

It's sort of weird. I mean, okay, I have heard this story how many times now? But somehow I never get tired of hearing it just like he never seems to get tired of telling it. I suppose that all works out in the wash somewhere. 

I lean back on the hard tile and stare at the stars I can barely see, fingers laced in my hair. I don't have to look anymore to know the expression on his face as he thinks about how to start it. 

Each time I ask him to tell it a little bit differently because each time I want to know something else. Maybe pretend something else. I want Pertelote to do something, this time. I want to hear that she helps, even a little bit and that it makes a difference. Don't ask me why, I don't know exactly. 

Well, that's not really true. I even said it earlier, discovering it coiling through through the words I've been winding around both of us for hours, working closer and closer to what's true.  _ I keep expecting him to be Jai, _ I'd said, blurting it out like a confession although as soon as I'd said it, it seemed too obvious to mention. That's the reason that this time I want Pertelote to be more. I want to hear that he loves her the best not only because she's beautiful but because she's at least as smart and clever as he is. That's important to me tonight. 

It's such a great story and I probably interrupt way more often than I ought to. Rooster doesn't seem to mind though, picking up the skein of it each time without pause. Halfway through we're interrupted as feathers cup air and bare feet alight on the cold patio. Nova's back and he sits without speaking, listening as the story finishes. Its so easy to turn my head, watch him through half-slitted eyes and tell myself he doesn't know I'm looking. 

Does he know this story is about him, somehow? So he's not Jai. He'll never be Jai. They are about as opposite as two people can get even; all gold and white where the vaudun is black and velvet, all noise and commotion where Trinidad is quiet and still. That's not such a bad thing, is it? I told him not to be serious about anybody, because he wasn't... wasn't ready, wasn't human, couldn't possibly understand. Maybe I've just been trying to tell myself. It doesn't have to be serious. I'm not human either. 

Would it hurt anything if I don't care so very much? Could I simply not look each time he kisses another girl, pretend it doesn't mean anything? Would it mean anything? He says the things that make me feel like I'm special, at least for that very moment. It doesn't have to be serious. 

I feel new-made. Water christened, drowned and reborn. I ran to be clear two night ago, with Rooster who sits now with my foot in his lap, who tells me my favorite story every time I ask for it. Who understands maybe why I need it. I'd actually been scared then, like I might have lost something in the water, some fine edge of all the things I am. So it was silly, I'm often messed up like that. 

It's not like I could lose it though, not with Rooster; a certain perfection which is my own personal faultline. But it doesn't have to mean anything serious either. It's only that I can't find words sometimes and have to be furious to find them again. Rooster knows, he's always known. 

So I stare at the sky and he tells it like I asked him to, and Pertelote digs a hole with her sharp claws and catches the fox when he tries to run. She helps, she's brave enough to see what needs doing. That makes me feel good and so it's just a dumb story, it's not like I have to explain it to anybody. His thumb rubbing circles on my ankle feels good, old familiar motion. 

It occurs to me out of nowhere that he's not Jai either.


	46. Christmas and Cookies

“Stasis, will you go to Christmas Eve Mass with me?” 

Her first reaction was to say no. He'd already talked her into the singing thing, what more did he want? Sure, she'd gone a few times on Sundays with Mimi, even once or twice with Jester but being that she didn't believe in God, it felt sort of hypocritical to go and pretend. You couldn't even sleep in there, with all the kneeling and the sitting and then the standing and then the kneeling again.

But looking at his face, eyes screwed shut for courage, she couldn't do it. Somehow it was important and you didn't mess around with the important things, she'd figured that much out at least. The smile he'd given her after she'd said yes had been pretty nice.

So they'd gone and she'd enjoyed herself even. It was probably the whole ritual of it all, the feeling that it had always been done this way, for years and years and years. From the little girl who carried the first candle and the singing and even the reading of psalms that were as incomprehensible as another language. When Father Montoya said the words "Pax vobris" she knew enough to reply "Et cum spiritu tuo" even though she mangled it a little. Nova shot her a little smile and she felt pretty nice about that too.

They picked up the caroling books and then went back to the dorms to get changed. She hesitated but grabbed a jacket on the way out. Not that she needed it really but it wouldn't look right if she was running around in a tshirt while everybody else was bundled up. She was grateful for it too when she stepped out into the quad and realised it was starting to snow. Snow and short sleeves just screamed freak and the last thing she wanted to do was stand out.

She goofed around and joked with everybody as people showed up. It was a great, almost quietly lazy feeling and she was glad she'd let herself be talked into it. It was fun to be part of a group as they struck out, sorting out who was going with who, who got to carry a book and who had to share. She stuck to Nova and did her best not to sound like a croaking frog when the singing started. It wasn't as bad as she figured so after awhile she just stopped feeling self conscious about it. Privately she thought Nova sounded like a girl when he sang, sort of like a bell. His voice sure seemed to go a lot higher than she'd expected anyways. Maybe it was a dayball thing.

When he whispered to her that it was about time to wind up, she was grateful for that too. His breath steamed in the air as he sang the last song and when his hand slipped into hers, it seemed the thing to do. She grinned at him and didn't even try to hit the last high notes, singing almost a full octave below where it was safer. Some of the kids split off then to head back to the dorms or to do other things but most of them trooped along when Nova said he had a surprise waiting. It was almost like everybody didn't want to be alone, wanting to be together. Sort of made sense once she thought about it. Those that had homes to go to already had... what was left in the quads was those that didn't.

She'd heard about Grandma Chiho but this was the first time she'd met the lady so Stasis did her best to be polite. The whole place smelling like sugar and cookies didn't help to be honest because she was salivating so hard when she walked in she thought for sure she was drooling. Grandma seemed to understand and soon enough everybody was laughing and getting warm again after the couple of hours of walking in the cold. She sat on the floor because there weren't enough seats and ended up leaning on somebody's legs. She got icing all over her fingers trying to decorate her cookie but she wasn't the only one. 

Staying behind to help clean up then walking with Nova back to the train was really nice. He didn't try to hold her hand again and she wasn't sure if she was grateful or disappointed. Probably both, knowing her. When they got back to the school and he gave her the cookie he'd held back, she laughed. Trust the dayball to try and figure out how to render her armor in confectioner's sugar. 

"Merry Christmas, Stasi," he said. His wings rustled as his fingers withdrew from hers. "Thanks for coming. I had a great time."

"Merry Christmas to you too, Nova," she replied. "And yeah, it was a lot of fun. Thanks for inviting me." Something else hovered on the tip of her tongue but she just smiled. It had been really nice, that's all. She waved, almost a half salute and headed back to her quad before the almost-words coalesced into something she understood.

Curling into bed a little later, she still felt that way. It had been a good idea to go. She felt warm, full of cocoa and cookies and even the singing because it had been a part of something bigger. 

It had felt good to belong.

  
  



	47. There Have To Be Easier Ways

 

"That was fun."

Stasis had to smile at the satisfaction in Nova's voice. Who knew he'd never been skating before? Although she guessed it made sense once she thought about it. If everybody spent their time floating around as glowing balls of energy or dive bombing unsuspecting birds out of the sky, who'd have bothered to spend time figuring out it was possible to glide on ice using thin metal blades?

"Glad you enjoyed it, dayball. For awhile there I was thinking you'd never get the hang of it."

Nova rubbed his tailbone, grimacing. "For awhile there I wasn't sure I was going to either." He looked down, smiling. "But I figured if you wanted to take me out, you'd have found a faster way than lingering death by internal bleeding."

She ducked her head and stuffed her hands harder into her pockets. The district of Silver Lake had opened the gates to the biggest outdoor skating rink in Paragon only a week before and while she was no great shakes at it, she knew enough not to need to hold onto anything. Nova hadn't had that comfort and had spent the last hour and a half with a stranglehold on her neck and shoulders, trying to get and then keep his balance. She'd laughed about hard enough to give herself hiccups. He'd expended so much energy that his entire body had steamed in the cold air.

"If I wanted to take you out," she said finally, "I'd've hired Misericorde." She shot him a shy smile that was at odds with the words.

They'd opted to walk instead of taking a bus back to the train station, Nova trying to work out the kinks. Stasis hadn't minded the extra exercise. It had stopped snowing the day before and most of the sidewalks had been salted clean. She watched her boots hit the pavement, watching for any ice patches that could make her slip, trying not to be too aware of how close he was, what his hands had felt like. She could feel his eyes on the top of her head like warm sunshine though.

"Oh, anything but Misericorde," he agreed although she had the feeling he didn't realise the implications of what she'd just said. "I'd rather stay vertical for awhile, at least until the sore spots go away and we can try it all again." Then, casually, "Hey, you want to get something to eat?"

The whole thing felt weird. He was trying too hard not to try too hard.

It wasn't a date because she been pretty clear that she didn't know how to date but what else did you call it? Friends hanging out didn't work either because he didn't want to be friends and she wasn't sure what she wanted but had to agree that friends didn't exactly cover it. He'd held her hand during the caroling a few days before. That had seemed like a safe start. His eyes glowed sometimes when he looked at her but that didn't have to mean much. She called Nova dayball to tease him but also because it was true. Random glowing sort of just came with the territory.

'Yeah, I think so," she decided. She was kind of hungry now that she thought about it. "I have a couple of bucks left, we could try and get a burger somewhere."

"I got a few more than a couple bucks. Let's find someplace warm to sit down and I'll treat you to something better than a burger."

She opened her mouth to object and then slowly closed it. "Sure," she said. "Sounds kinda nice." She risked another smile and was rewarded by the answering one that spread across his handsome face. She wasn't sure but when he looked like that, she could almost swear she saw gold tracery racing under his skin. Obviously it had been the right thing to say.

"Perfect. Come on, let's cut through here and hit the overpass. There's a nice Italian place around the corner and I know you love pasta."

"I what?" She followed without hesitation as Nova turned down a side street, already mapping the route in her head. "Since when?" If they ducked behind the Intellicorp building, through the alley and then cut through the empty lot on the other side of the street, they'd be about a half block from the dead end of Quartz. They could take the stairway and then the overpass up to the next level. It wasn't too far from the train either, for after.

He smiled over his shoulder, pale hair catching momentary fire in the weak sunlight. "You saying you don't like pasta? Stasi, everybody likes pasta." He spread his arms wide. "It's a rule."

"Since when is it a rule?" she asked, lengthening her stride to try and catch up the half step he'd gained. "Since you just said so?"

"Yup," floated the answer. "Because I just said so."

"Nova," she laughed, "you're a featherhead. Just because you like pasta doesn't mean everybody else does."

"But you do, don't you? From the day I met you, I said to myself that you looked like a girl who likes pasta."

She eyed the back of his head, automatically dodging the sway of his wings to try and get back into pole position. "The day you met me, you were probably trying to figure out how to stay corporeal for more than ten minutes at a time. Pasta was the last thing on your mind."

He grinned down at her as she finally managed to slide up. "Do you actually remember the day we met?" He sounded curious. She nodded, shoving her hands back into her jean pockets in unconscious habit as she turned into the alleyway.

"Sure do. At the top of City Hall. You nearly gave me a heart attack when you landed." She wrinkled her nose and decided to keep going. "You didn't have a shirt on either. Jai wasn't really happy about it, that I remember." He really hadn't been happy about how she'd stared but she'd just been startled, that was all. Not often you saw angels falling out of the sky. She'd made it up to him.

"Maybe he knew."

Stasis hauled her memory away from the smell of water, a bridge and kisses sweeter than molasses sugar. "Knew what?"

"Maybe he knew I liked you."

"Ah yeh?" spilled out of her lips and she cursed herself again for slipping. She looked up at his face. "I mean, you did?"

"Sure," he replied. "If I'd been Jai, I don't think I'd have been happy to meet me either." The quirky half smile on his lips did funny things to her insides.

She had no idea what to say to that. As it turned out she didn't have to.

"Well, well. Just look what a little patience can do for you."

Stasis turned back, actually taking a few more steps farther into the alley before coming to an uncertain stop. "Excuse me?"

The guy leaning against the building didn't look all that tough. Even when he straightened, half blocking the cut through, he didn't look that tough. There was something odd with his hands though, too-long thumbs tucked into belt loops.

"Who said that Christmas doesn't come to the meek. Didn't I say that, Lenny? That Christmas comes to the meek?"

"You sure did." The voice was from behind and Stasis felt a cold snake curl in the pit of her stomach. "The meek shall inherit, I think you said."

"Right. So let's be all meek and Christmas-like. If you got any money, peachfuzz, I'd suggest you hand it over. Just tell yourself you're supporting the charity of meek minded people."

"No." Nova had pulled himself up, wings half unfurling even though there wasn't really that much room for them. Stasis tried to look back to spot how big this Lenny was but her view was blocked by white. "You can just get out of our way and then maybe I don't have to hurt you."

"Kid, you don't want to do that." The answering laugh from behind them did not have a nice quality to it. "I don't care how hopped up you think you are, if you want us not to mess up your girlfriend, you put the wallet on the ground and Lenny there will let you back out without plucking every feather you have, right down to the ones in your underwear."

"Stasis?" The whisper was so soft she barely heard it, ruffling the fine down at her temple. She blew out a trembling breath.

"There's only two." She clenched her fists, not so much calling power as simply letting go of the control that kept it from flooding in.

"Oh, we got us a pair of wannabe heroes, do we?" The guy in front of them hadn't gotten any taller, he still didn't look all that tough. But something in his voice sent a frisson down Stasis' spine. Something was wrong. She checked over her shoulder. "Lenny, I think we got us some baby capes! How about that."

She finally got a look over Nova's shoulder as his wings tried to flex. Lenny was as solid a mass as anything she'd ever seen. He outweighed both of them by a factor of something significant but it was the five shadows behind him that made her swallow. Even as she looked, a sixth drifted across the street to join the rest. She looked back and there was still just the one guy in front.

It didn't fill her with any sense of comfort. Why six, why the gang to keep them from running? Or was it just to force them forward into whatever this guy was made of? Which way out?

She looked up but there was no way Nova could fly. Too cramped, too narrow. She steadfastly refused to look backwards again. Lenny and his buddies would still be there. It was the guy talking that was dangerous. She could feel Nova vibrating at her shoulder, warmth starting to pulse in rising waves.

She could taste it starting. Her vision was starting to narrow, darken. Her fingers flexed. She saw her breath mist for the first time all day and it felt awfully good. Yes? Yes.

"Ready on?"

"Stasi?"

She was up on the balls of her feet, almost at flashover point. So easy. Always so easy. "Ready on, dayball? I got dibs." It was getting hard to think. She wanted him to just hurry up and say yes so she could start.

He must have caught it. She thought she felt fingers ghosting over the back of her neck. Excited. Warm. It might have been her imagination. "Ready on."

___________

Cold snapped and she whirled, pulling it as fast as she could, trying not to choke on it. Again the walls frosted over in rime. She dodged but there was nowhere to go as lightning ripped up her side. She could smell her hair burning.

Nova was holding his own, the same as she was, but just barely. Lenny was some sort of juggernaut, seemly impossible to hurt. He just kept getting up and wading back in. Out of the corner of her eye, the blonde boy fell to one knee as a vicious baseball bat connected to his ribs, one hand outraised to fend off the next blow.

"Nova!" she screamed, whirling. She started to pull.

Too late. The weapon rose up, fell, intent on breaking.

Only Nova wasn't there. In, under, inside the swing and there was an explosion of soundless light. The body flew backwards to land in a crumpled heap near the entrance to the alley. She'd have cheered if she could.

Something hit her shoulder blade, sudden pain as the bone snapped in half. It was instant retaliation for the loss of concentration and she cried out, hitting the wall. She scrambled back up, saying something she never said as she whirled back, arm dangling useless. The guy smirked at her, reeling in the fist sized metal ball. "Did that hurt, sweetheart?" The next one lashed out and she dodged again.

"Not as much as this is going to!" Something flew over her shoulder and then it was his turn to flinch out of the way as whatever it was missed his head by a crackling margin. Nova grabbed her upper arm and life punched down through her throat, stomach, lower places. She healed, tight and sweet and instantaneous. His eyes were full of glowing light but she knew she was grinning.

"Told you I don't like that," she spit out.

"Yeah? Take it up with me later. Duck!" They both hit the ground as lightning arced. She shot up again and went for speed instead of power, pulling and releasing, forcing concussive waves at her attacker, trying to push him back.

"Got any bright ideas, dayball?" she shouted over her shoulder.

"Yeah!" was the answer. "Time travel back and we give him the money." Light flared behind her, casting a hard edged shadow down the alley.

She was able to grab the chain the next time it lashed out and she had the satisfaction of freezing the links before it got yanked out of her fingers. Hopefully it conducted all the way up. Time. Time travel.

"Can you summon a portal?" she asked. Ouroboros. Nova'd taken her there once. It had been beautiful. It would be really beautiful right now. Awesomely beautiful.

"If you can give me three minutes of uninterrupted concentration!"

She blew out breath and charged forward, building ice and momentum. No dice, she had to retreat again as a wall of lightning ate through her shields. "I can't even give you three seconds. Got any other ideas?"

"Complain to city hall in a letter?"

He hit the ground almost at her feet, wings incongruously cupped forward so that for a second her legs disappeared into froth. She spun on one heel and socked the leaping gang member with enough kinetic force that he flipped away almost as far as Nova could have done it. And with the dayball on the ground she had a clear line of fire for the first time.

Ice exploded out from her body, armor shed in a killing wind of slivers. She grabbed his hand and hauled him up in the three seconds of respite she'd just bought.

"Funny boy."

They were nearly eye to eye, her fingers burning warm in his. His eyes were washed gold, the tight skin over his cheekbones infinitely fascinating. She could feel the heat of his body against her side where they were almost touching.

Her mouth was on his, fingers sliding up the back of his neck. He tasted sharp, like ozone or metal. As plush as any cat. She kissed him, realised she was kissing him when she hadn't meant to do any such thing.

She pulled back. His eyes were suddenly human normal, blue, startled. She licked her lips and watched in fascination as his tongue mirrored the motion.

Something flashed almost out of vision and she snapped ice up, made enough of a wall to keep from being pulverised. She raised both fists and started to turn back.

Nova said something in a language she didn't understand, rumbling soft. He switched back to english. "Stasi, need you to launch me up."

"What?" Lenny nearly on them again, she watched the mutant push his way back to the front. Nova half growled, half laughed in her ear.

"Up! I can't fly, I need you to toss me. You used to be a cheerleader. Up, Stas!"

She looked up, confused then got the idea of it. Arguing about relative cheerleaderhood was not a great idea at the moment. "Right." She went down to one knee and laced her fingers together for the foot rest. She'd seen Rooster do this about a hundred times. Nova braced his hands on her shoulders and she could feel the charge building. The urge to strip it and use it for herself was something she swallowed.

"Go!"

She thrust up even as Nova snapped his wings out as far as he could. At the top of the arc, he twisted. She just had time to figure out what was coming and turned her eyes away.

The concussive force of the strike knocked her to the ground but at least she wasn't entirely blinded. She heard him land. Then arms scooped her up and then they were up in the air, down again. Another leap and they were out of the alley entirely. Nova whooped and she had about a half second to grab onto his neck, bury her face in his shoulder.

Sweet Atlas on a stick, she hated flying.

__________

  


Nothing, she decided, tasted as good as this hotdog.

"Nova, this is best hotdog I think I've ever had."

He made a noise of likely agreement and swallowed his own bite. There was mustard at the corner of his mouth. "They don't make them like this back home."

"They have hot dogs on the dayball planet?" she asked, curious.

He took a long time answering. "Nope," was the eventual response. He took another bite.

She found herself smiling, wider and wider for no apparent reason. She quirked an eyebrow, looking up. "Then I guess they don't make them like anything at all then, do they?"

"Nope. Hey, Stas?"

"Yeah?"

He chewed and then swallowed. "The next time you say 'ready on?' you know what I'm going to say?"

She thought about it. There were a half a dozen likely responses. "Nope."

"I'm going to say," he replied, "that there's got to be an easier way to get a kiss."

She hit him in the shoulder, hard enough to hurt. It seemed the thing to do.  
  
---  
  
  



	48. End of the Year

"She's here."

That was Aeon, hypersensitive hearing way ahead of the rest. Everyone swiveled their heads and sure enough there was a couple of thumps at the door.

Stasis reacted first, throwing herself across the room in four long strides.

"About time. Heyla, girlywhirl!" Stasis yanked the door open. "Since when did you get so formal?" 

Kalista Jade giggled. Or at least Stasi assumed it was Kali behind the armload of brightly wrapped packages. "I couldn't reach the doorknob! I had to kick the door." Kali tried to demonstrate and nearly nailed Stas in the shins.

"Hey, easy on!" Stasi got out of range fast. "I'm still using those. Woah, what didja bring us anyways, half the world on a stick? Looks like you bought out Macy's or something." The blonde edged back into kick range and snagged the top couple of packages. She turned and tossed the first one across the room. "Think fast!"

Erika fielded it easily. "Thanks, Snowflake." The brunette inspected the tag. "This one's for Angel though." 

"For me? Wow, thanks Kali!" Angelique bounced over to Erika and grabbed the present. "What is it?" She shook it experimentally.

Stasis unloaded a few more pieces and the pair of girls managed to get the haul more or less safely onto a desk. "Hey, you can't ask, Ang. It's seven years bad luck or something."

"Do you mangle everything deliberately Stasis, or are you just really that dumb?" 

Stasi shot a look at Erika and opened her mouth but Kali interrupted. "I got everybody something and you can't open them ‘til Christmas. But don't shake it, Angel!" Angelique looked guilty, caught in mid-curiosity. "I think that one's got, um, pointy things that break. Or maybe that was the one for Violet, I don't remember." Divested of the boxes finally, Kali hugged Stasis. "Oh, it’s so good to see you guys!"

Stasis grinned, happy enough to be distracted. She'd been looking forward to this visit for days. She hugged her friend tightly, lifting her up by the waist. "Oh, it's so awesome to see you too! God, you weigh a ton! What's Jack been feeding you anyways?" 

"Pizza!" Kali giggled. "I had to give up on chips after the last time."

"The... last time?" Aeon replied quizzically.

"Oh, don't ask, it was horrible! I had to spend all night cleaning up. I don't even want to think about it." Kali wiggled impatiently. "Stas, you're squishing me."

"Woah, sorry whirlygirl. Got excited there." The tanker put her friend down and made a big production of brushing her off, including blowing on her hair. "I found your movie by the way."

"You did?"

Angelique piped up from where she'd sat down on Erika's bed. "Oh yeah. Me and Stasis went to five video stores before we found one that had it so it's a good thing we bought day passes for the trains. Why didn't you pick something easy like a Vin Diesel movie? They always have lots of those in stock." 

"Because Vin Diesel isn't in my favorite movie silly, that's why."

Angel sighed and clutched her present as if it was a pillow. "He's in mine."

Over her shoulder, Erika made a gagging face. Kali giggled and even Aeon looked amused. Stasis cocked a hip and laughed. "Ayuh, you and the Diesel man. You're gonna get married and have a hundred little tattooed kids?"

"Oh, at least." Angelique rolled her eyes. "Come on you guys, he's really cute."

"That's usually enough for most of us," Erika drawled. She stood up and Kali bounced over to give her a hug too. The fire tanker's expression softened. "Hi, Kali. It's great to see you."

"You guys have no idea how much I missed you! And St. Joe's and my quad even though it's empty and don't tell anybody but I even miss the cafeteria."

"No way!"

Kali nodded, nearly cracking Erika's chin with the top of her head. "Oh yeah! Free food and I don't have to cook it myself! I miss it like crazy!"

Stasis sat down, tucking one foot under her thigh. "Oh jeez. I have no idea how you manage not to be a thousand pounds with the stuff you eat. Why don't you make Jack cook?"

Kali rolled her eyes. "Jack? He can't even figure out noodles. He’s like, a stupid boy." 

Stas snickered at the rallying cry. Kali brightened and pointed peremptorily at a box wrapped in a glittery red christmas tree pattern. "Oh, you know when I said you can't open your presents ‘til Christmas? Well, we have to open that one now. I got it specially for you Stas and I wanna give it a try."

"Ah yeh?" Stas winced and then looked at the gift with suspicion. "What's in it? Should I get out the hazmat gear?"

"It's not going to explode or anything! I know you're just going to love it," Kali said. "As soon as I saw it, I knew it was just so you."

"Don't look like that, Stasis. You have your med badge on, right?" Aeon offered. "Well then, there's nothing to worry about."

"Thanks." She leaned over and snagged the box in question. "If I go up in a fireball, I'm blaming society." She shook the box. "Do I even get a hint?"

"You can't eat it!" crowed Kali, but then she thought about it. "Well, maybe you could but I bet it tastes awful. Like lima beans or broccoli or maybe even that cod liver oil stuff."

Every girl in the quad groaned. Stasis suddenly looked worried and stopped shaking the present, in fact holding it at arm's length. "Kali?" she croaked.

"Yeah, Stas?"

"Is whatever is in this box related to Mr. Nibbles?"

Erika edged back. Aeon and Angelique just traded quizzical glances, having no idea what that meant. Kali stuck her hands on her hips. "Stas, as if I'd stuff Mr. Nibbles into a box without air holes."

"Right. Being that Mr. Nibbles so totally needed air." The blonde blew the hair out of her eyes.

"Who's Mr. Nibbles?" asked Aeon.

"You don't want to know," replied Erika who was still maintaining a safe maneuvering distance. "Some things are just better left as unexplained mysteries."

"You guys are so mean. Mr. Nibbles was the best pet ever! Or at least he was until Barrier ate him," Kali sulked.

Aeon blinked. "What? Barrier ate your  _ pet? _ "

Kali nodded. "Oh, it was horrible! Worse than the chips. He got loose and he somehow got into her room and he never came back out." Kali nodded her head emphatically. "She ate him."

Stasis rolled her eyes. "She so did not, Kali. Barrier said she opened the window and he flew away." Privately Stasis thought the eyeball had gotten off lucky. More than lucky. If that thing had gotten into  _ her _ quad, being eaten would have been the least of its worries.

"That's just what she wants you to think but I know better. But never mind, go on. Open it!" Kali made a motion with her hands and bounced. "You're going to love it, I just know you are."

Stasis shrugged and dug her fingers into the paper. Opening presents, even ones that might explode or try to eat your face off was the best part of Christmas. She shredded happily for a minute and then opened the plain brown box. Crumpled up newspaper, used for packing, flew over her shoulder. Stasis stopped then, staring into the cavity with a dumbfounded look. "Um, Kali?"

"Yeah?" 

Stasis pulled the gift out, pale brows trying to twitch into an expression somewhere between confusion and horror. Erika leaned in, trying to decipher what she was seeing. The box showed a woman with a turban or a towel on her head and some sort of weird looking rash on her face. She couldn't make out the name though or the brand of whatever it was.

"What is it?"

Kali clapped her hands. "I told you! It's so you! I got three boxes!"

________

 

"Is this stuff supposed to actually do something?" Stas inspected herself in the little hand mirror. Who knew she could be even more unattractive? She made a monster face at herself over Aeon's shoulder.

"Silly, it's supposed to make you.. uh... " Kali grabbed the packaging again and put a finger on the back. "Okay. It says it's supposed to remove impurities and soften the skin’s texture, leaving a fresh, healthy glow. Don't you want to be healthy and glowing, Stas?"

"She gets mad, all sorts of things glow. Hell, you can use her as a nightlight."

Kali giggled as the blonde tried to glare at Erika. It was hard to look frightening with your face covered in green goo though. It was even harder to look at somebody else wearing the same goo and hold a straight face.

"Your mother wears army boots, Raeder," she finally managed to figure out. 

Angelic burst out from the corner, distracting everyone. "Hey, guess who I am!" The girl jumped up on her bed and posed, flexing her arms in front of her like a muscle man. The beauty mud on her face creased with the effort.

"Oh, I got it!" Kali squealed. "Spiderman!"

Stas groaned. "That is so wrong, Kali Jade. Who let you in this quad anyways?"

Angel bounced a few times. "Guess! C'mon you guys, it’s not that hard." She posed again, scrunching up her face, thin shoulders set.

"Hemorrhoid Man?" That was Erika's contribution.

Aeon laughed. "Has to be the Hulk."

"You got it! Don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry." Angelique squeaked as two pillows and teddy bear launched themselves across the room. "Don't hurt me!"

"So how long do we need to keep this stuff on then anyways, heyla? For uh, maximum healthy glow effect?" 

"About an hour," said Kali brightly. Stasis blanched.

"No way. I have to look like the Swamp Thing for an  _ hour _ ?"

"So what makes today any different? Think of it this way, Snowflake - for an hour you can be one of the Hulk Sisters. I'm pretty sure I heard Rocco say that green is the new black."

Stasis look around for something to chuck, but she'd run out of pillows after bombarding Angelique. "The Fashion Nazi doesn't know anything about anything and I don't care who he hangs out with. At least Jase knew how to look good without having to announce it every four seconds. You can't trust anybody that has to tell you over and over again how wonderful they are. Um, Angel, can I have my pillow back?"

"Oh, like you're such a fashion diva. I remember those candy cane overalls, remember." Erika smirked and Stasis wrinkled her nose. She could feel the mud mask cracking with the motion and found herself feeling defensive.

"Hey, those were great. Comfortable as anything f'sure." Angel tossed a pillow back across the room and the blonde eyed the fire queen. It wasn't worth it - she'd save the ammunition for later. Besides if she tossed it now, it would probably stick to Erika's face and get green gunk all over it.

"You looked great in those, Stas!" piped up the ever supportive Kali, popping her head out of the tiny bathroom where she'd been applying more of the green concealer. "I wished I had a pair like that." Stasis smiled gratefully even as Aeon choked on something. Everybody looked over but the cyborg didn't seem to want to share what was so funny. 

"You know what? We have a whole hour to kill and we need something to drink." Erika flopped on her bed, fingers laced into her hair to stare at the ceiling. Stasis decided spitefully that if she'd been given the job, she'd have titled it  _ "Gorgon At Rest" _ .

"You want cola or ginger ale?" Aeon was already reaching for the pop bottles.

"No, I mean we need something to  _ drink _ . Alcohol. Tequila. Something so that Kali has a hangover in the morning and remembers us for the rest of her life."

"But I already love you guys, honest!" Kali replied, walking back into the main room. Erika smirked again.

"Not like you're gonna love us tomorrow." She looked around. "C'mon, who's been saving some for a rainy day?"

"Not me," Stasi said. "Maybe half the school has illegal IDs for Pocket D but I don't have an 'in' with the computer nerds."

"Nobody look at me either," said Aeon. The prosethetic eye winked. 

"Well, we're just going to have to get some. I'm not sitting through some movie called  _ Smoke Signals _ without insulation."

"Erika, it’s a great movie!" Kali put on a pout. "It's the best movie ever and you're gonna cry, I just know you are."

"Yeah, and there's  _ Finding Nemo _ for afterwards."

"Should have known you'd be into a sappy fish movie, Stasis."

"I thought  _ The Little Mermaid _ was your favorite?" Kali looked over at her best friend.

Stasis hesitated, barely perceptible. "No. And heyla, what's wrong with sappy fish movies? Fish need love too."

"Tell that to Jaws. Look. If we're going to sit through two movies picked out by the Terrible Twins, we need booze. I guess I could call somebody I know for a favor..."

Stasis hesitated and then opened her mouth. Closed it and then opened it again. "I know where we can get something," she heard herself saying.

"Oh yeah?" 

"Yeah."

A couple of heartbeats of time went by. "Feel like sharing?" Erika said sweetly. 

Stasis glanced at the clock and went to rub her face, remembering about the green gunk barely in time. "Just how much trouble do we feel like getting into?"

________

"We're so doomed."

"Shhh. We can so do this. Everybody's mostly at dinner still. Just look natural, we're just out for a walk, no worries."

"Through the boys' dorm? Looking like candidates for the Darwin Awards?" Aeon grumbled, tugging her baseball cap farther down. "Oh, that'll fly."

Kali was nearly piggyback with Stasis, she was crowding so close. "I didn't know Jai drank."

"He doesn't. Sort of." Stas rubbed the back of her neck. "It's for talking to the loa. And for spells." Kali squeaked.

"Jai does  _ spells _ ?!"

"Like I said, sort of. Look, would you shush? You're totally gonna get us in trouble. Act  _ natural _ ."

Erika snorted from the front. "You  _ really _ want us to act natural? Because I can do that." The fire tanker put both fists to her hip and started to draw an imaginary sword. An imaginary sword that wasn't going to be all that imaginary in about four seconds.

"Eri- _ ka! _ Holy!" 

"Just kidding." She grinned over her shoulder and then sighed. "Break it up, people. You look like illegal aliens from Mexico crossing the border."

A door opened ahead of them, forestalling any reply. A couple of boys stepped into the hallway. Erika, leader of a thousand forays against the various gang factions of Paragon City, kept walking. That meant everybody else had to keep walking too. Kali swallowed a tiny squeak.

Stasis didn't know either of them, although they were kind of familiar. Then again, the whole school was kind of familiar. Aeon muttered, "That's Jammer and Chili Pepper." The boys didn't seem to notice the girls right away, talking as the taller one locked the door. Then they turned and fell silent as the invading contingent bore down on them.

"What are you looking at?" Erika growled.

"Nothing?"

"Good. Keep looking at nothing. Got it?" With a green beauty mask and a tasselled sombrero, the fire tanker definitely resembled some sort of vengeful Mayan goddess. The shorter one flattened himself against the wall. The taller red head looked like he might contest the right of way but opted for discretion over valor at the last minute. Stasis couldn't help it - she touched her fingers to the plastic cowboy hat and nodded as she went by. "Thank you, ma'am," she intoned gravely. Kali gave a little queen wave, tiara askew and Angel giggled as her fuzzy antennae bobbed with the motion. Aeon just sighed.

Erika counted doors and stopped. "This is it. Quad five."

"What? They're in the same quad as us?"

Stasis put her hand to the door in an impulsive gesture. The wood was older here, the boys' dorms not all the way refurbished. "Ayuh. That used t'allus make me laugh. Quad five for the win," she whispered. She looked over her shoulder. "Ready on? Everybody remember the plan? Angel, you okay with your part?"

The other girl nodded. "On it, Stasis! He'll never know what hit him!" Privately Stas doubted it and from the look on Erika's face, she wasn't all that confident either. Then again, maybe Mis wouldn't be in there. Maybe the backup plan wouldn't be required. Maybe they'd all get out of this alive.

Everybody nodded. Stasis took a deep breath, refusing to check over her shoulder for onlookers. This was it. They had no idea if anybody was in there or not. "Go!" she said, pushing the door, banking on it being unlocked because if it wasn't, they were stumped.

It was open.

The five girls spilled into secret territory, the undiscovered country, the secret garden of mysteries. Boys' Dorm, Quad Five. It was amazingly, thankfully empty.

"What is that  _ smell _ ?!" Angel had her cheeks puffed up like a chipmunk, obviously trying to hold her breath. Stasis sniffed cautiously and even Erika seemed a little taken aback. It was Kali who offered up the answer.

"That's  _ Atlas Shrugged _ , you guys. It's like the most expensive cologne anywhere." The dark haired brunette sniffed appreciatively. "Jack wears it all the time."

Erika coughed. "Does somebody really think they have to marinade in it though?"

"It's probably Rocco." 

"Holy, yeah. Drix probably told him it was the in thing and now I bet he showers with the stuff." Stasis grinned, stalking farther into the room. "I swear that guy thinks everything Drixie-poo does is the.. uh, cat's meow."

"That's bad, Stas," groaned Aeon.

Angel finally realized it was breathe or die and exhaled. "Can we hurry this up, guys? I'm going to faint, I swear. I don't care if it's a hundred dollars a shot, it stinks."

"Okay, spread out, people. Lock and load!" Erika pointed to the four beds in the quad. "Everybody to their assigned stations and let's do this."

Erika had already lost the coin toss back in their room and took Mis' corner, gingerly checking for traps or moldy sandwiches. Not all of the smell could be explained by cologne. A delicate search of the shelf above the bed gave up a photo album and a shoebox. Erika cautiously lifted the lid but it was only pictures and you couldn't eat those. Rifling the dresser drawers yielded only a stash of protein bar wrappers and a half a bag of marshmallows. She left both alone, getting down on her hands and knees to peer under the bed.

"Careful down there, Raeder. That's where Mis hides the porn." 

"Oh yeah? Boxes of it?" Erika saw only dust bunnies but there was no fun in mentioning that.

Stasis grinned over her shoulder. "Mon ami has no sense of proportion?" 

Erika snorted and then sneezed as the dust kicked up. "Well, unless you guys are into melting edible oil in the alcohol, it’s a bust over here.

Angel had gotten Rocco's side and was happily messing up the immaculately ordered desk drawers. "I got some trail mix over here," she said, "and a half a box of cookies." She picked up a helmet sitting on top of the dresser, flipping it over. "Erika?"

"Yeah?"

"What's this?" Angel tossed it over to the other girl, who caught it by the strap. She turned it over in her lean hands and then a smile tugged on her lips.

"This is Rocco being an ape." She tossed it back. 

"What did you sign his helmet for?" Angel inspected it curiously again before plomping it back on the desk. Erika sighed, getting back to her feet.

"Long story. I'll tell you sometime."

Aeon looked over from Timothy's bed. "You think Rocco is sweet on you?" That corner was immaculate, everything tucked away, nothing left out to view. It was almost Home And Garden clean which Stasis personally found sort of suspicious. Clover did not strike her as the impressively tidy type but there was no disguising it. She knew where Mis and Jai bunked, and the other bed with the sixteen pairs of boots lined up was Rocco's, absolutely no question.

Erika looked horrified at the thought. Aeon looked around and said thoughtfully, "Hey, guys?"

"What?"

"Let's play Sesame Street. One of these things is not like the others."

Kali put her hands on her hips. "I'm good at that game! Um.... " She scanned the room but it was Angel who picked it up first. 

"Jai's the only messy one."

Stasis crowed. "Yeah! Check it out! That's like, hospital corners on Mis' bed. Makes you wonder if he's afraid he's gonna fall out at night or something. Clover's obviously repressing to beat the band even if his pillows are pink and Rocco... holy, let's not even mention Rocco."

Angel laughed, not all that nicely. "He's even got his underwear sorted by color!"

"No way, really?"

"Oh yeah! Wanna come check?" The girl hauled open a dresser drawer as if inviting inspection but was interrupted as Kali squealed. The spotted girl closed the door of the little bar fridge and held up her find. 

"Score! Check this out, guys!" 

"Nice!" was the chorus. Everyone drifted over to look, distracted from the fashionista's weird organisational urges. Erika looked up and couldn't help herself.

"If you want it, you could just take it, you know."

Stasis guiltily dropped the red and black shirt that she'd been holding to her face. She turned away but not fast enough. The blonde reached behind the headboard, unerring going for something. When she turned back with the bottle in her fist, the expression was all but gone but Raeder wasn't fooled in the slightest. She knew Jai's favorite sweater when she saw it.

"Okay! Operation We're Doomed is successful!" The tanker shoved the bulky bottle under her shirt, tucking it into the waistband of her jeans. "Let's get out of here before we really do get doomed. Back into the sunset, guys, hup hup!" Stasis didn't wait for answer, striding for the door with the plastic cowboy hat bobbing incongruously on top of her head. Erika sighed and started to follow. 

After a second she swerved and yanked open the drawer, grabbing the half bag of marshmallows. Maybe they wouldn't taste too horrible with rum.

_______

Back at the quad they spread everything out on Aeon's bed. Well, almost everything. Erika had taken charge of the raid objective and was currently at her study desk, carefully pouring fingers of the amber liquid into plastic cups. She looked oddly different without the green mask, fresh scrubbed and a little pink. Stasis' own face felt sort of raw. If the stuff was supposed to give you a healthy glow, the platinum haired girl personally figured they ought to tell you it was because it was going to remove the top five layers of skin.

"You sure they're not going to know it was us?" 

"C'mon. I wouldn’t have recognized us and I knew who we were." Stasis swiped a handful of peanuts and grimaced at the taste. "Holy, how long were they hanging onto these? They taste like socks."

"Considering where we found them, I'm not surprised."

"Heyla, what's this?" Stasis leaned over the pile of goodies and flipped a black rectangle with a fingernail. "This doesn't look like food."

Angelique snatched it up. "It's just .. uh, something I found. It looked interesting!" She hid it behind her back. Kali promptly grabbed it out of her hands and tossed it to Aeon. Angel looked mutinous but didn't try to retrieve it.

"What is it?" Aeon asked and then answered herself. "It’s somebody's PDA."

"PD what?" was Stasi's contribution.

"You really would lose your head if it wasn't bolted down, wouldn't you? PDA. Personal Dental Assistant." Erika said it with such a straight face that Stasis was taken in. She looked at the thing with a surprised expression.

"Somebody has problems with their teeth?"

Kali giggled and came around to look at it too. "Silly, it doesn't have anything to do with teeth. It’s like a scheduler or a planner. You put things into it, like a mini computer."

"Where'd you find it, Angel?" Aeon asked. The other girl tossed her head.

"It was under the helmet, the one with Erika's name on it. It looked interesting and it's not like he's going to miss it for awhile." 

Stasis rubbed the back of her head. "You stole Rocco’s Dental Assistant? Jeez. Well, we can return it later." She plucked it out of Aeon's fingers and tossed it on a desk, promptly forgetting about it. "Come on, let's get this show on the road."

"Oh, let me make the popcorn first!" Angel went and got the illegal hot plate out from its hiding place. "Jiffy for the win!"

Stasis looked around at the room with a critical eye. "This isn't going to cut it. Aeon, let's push our beds together and then we don't have to hurt ourselves trying to get a good angle on the screen."

"You know, I always meant to ask but where did you get that thing anyways?"

"What, the tv?" Stasis glanced at it.

"Yeah. Not to pry or anything but it's not like you have a lot of money. Where'd you get something like that?" Aeon nodded at the 42" plasma screen that took up a serious chunk of wall between the other two beds.

"Jai gave it to her," Erika said. She’d finished pouring the third waxed paper cup and was starting on the fourth. "Apparently she needed a hobby."

Aeon blinked. "He gave her a televison for a hobby?"

Erika looked over, a sly grin on her face. "Yup. You have to admit, it's definitely more useful than what Angelcakes gave her for Christmas."

"What? Who's Angelcakes?" That was Kali. She squealed and shook a finger at her friend. "You got another guy?! Stas, why didn't you tell me?"

Stasis groaned and shot a look at Erika that meant  _ I'll deal with you later _ . "I do not have another guy. Sort of." 

Aeon was still looking speculatively at the black screen. "That's a pretty interesting purchase just for a hobby. You have any idea if Jai's interested in funding res... uh, never mind."

"C'mon Stas, give! Who's Angelcakes?"

She mumbled something. "It's a guy named Nova, he's real nice and if you don't bug me about it, maybe I'll let you meet him later. And for the love of everything do  _ not _ ask for a feather! He's losing all his pinions to kids and pretty soon he won't be able to fly if he keeps it up."

"Feathers? Fly?! Oh wow Stas, you're dating a real life  _ angel _ ?!"

"I'm not dating anybody, holy! Can we move onto something else now? He's a guy, I like him a lot, we hang out. That's it." Stasis ran a hand through her hair, spiking it up. "Sort of."

Kali giggled and relented. "You can tell Auntie Kali all about it later, girly," she said. Stasis sighed and turned to wrestle with the furniture. It was easier.

After shoving all the gear around and rearranging the crap from under the beds, they managed to get a workable solution. A few more minutes of searching turned up the rest of the pillows from various corners of the room and Angelique solved the problem of what to do with four bags of jumbo Jiffypop by dumping all her books out of her carry bag and using that as an impromptu bowl. Kali stuck the movie in and bounced back to the bed-seat, immediately bouncing back up again to help Erika with the now full dixie cups. 

Stasis accepted hers without comment. The last time she'd had anything to drink had been with the same rum, with a movie she couldn't watch anymore. Still, things change and always would. She grinned as Kali wiggled her way back into prime position on her stomach, a pillow clutched to her chest. Stasis retaliated by throwing a leg over her friend's waist but the effect was lost as Kali only squirmed. Angelique and Aeon had already taken over the other bed along with the popcorn. 

"Shove over, Snowflake."

What? Stasis blinked but obliged, making room at the edge. That meant that Kali had to move into the middle and there was a bunch of sorting out again, pillows reshuffled for maximum comfort levels. Stasis used the opportunity to lean over and grab the popcorn bag with one hand.

"I sure hope this isn't the buttered kind, Angel," she warned. "Otherwise your math text is gonna smell something weird in class for the next few weeks." Angelique tossed a kernel at her head. Stasis let everybody on her side of the makeshift double grab a handful of white fluffiness before handing it back.

"Everybody strapped in now? Ready on?" she quipped. 

"Born ready," came from Erika while Kali only giggled. 

"What's the name of the movie again?" asked Angel. 

"Smoke Signals." 

"What's it about?"

Kali turned on her side. "It's about these two boys... "

"... who have a forbidden love affair and end up dating other girls only it doesn't really work out and they end up playing kissy face all the time when they think nobody is looking. Sort of like Eric'n'Alex, only without the not-working-out part."

Aeon groaned. "That's another movie, Stas. Look, we are not going to read the back of the movie jacket to find out what's going on. We can do it the regular way by  _ watching _ it just like everybody else does."

"You are such a spoilsport, Aeon."

"I think what she's trying to say is that you're supposed to hit the Play button now, Stasis."

The blonde rolled her eyes. "Your lips to God's ears, Raeder."

Kali harumphed. "Would you guys just stop pretending you don't like each other? You're not fooling anybody so just turn it on already!"

"Yeah, I wanna watch some kissy face stuff," chirruped Angel.

"Gawd, they don't kiss, it's not  _ that _ kind of movie!" Kali actually sounded horrified, at least before she giggled. Stasis carefully didn't look at Erika as she thumbed the button on the remote control. As the previews started to roll up on the screen and the speakers thrummed to ominous life, she took a cautious sip of the rum.

_________

 

The trail mix lasted about twenty minutes, the marshmallows a little longer. The cookies almost made it to end of the movie but that was mostly because Kali ended up sitting on one and nobody knew it was there until she had to get up to go to the bathroom. Stasis had had two cups of rum and was pretty sure her nose was tingling. It had gotten dark outside when nobody was looking. She hoped to God nobody had seen her get teary-eyed in the middle but Erika had ended up using her as a leaning post and might have figured it out.

There was a knock at the door. Aeon was closest, not to mention not in the least affected by the alcohol. Angel made a grab for the popcorn as it threatened to spill out of the bag.

"Oh! Hi, B. What's up?" 

"Can somebody please tell me what's going on in here? I've had the entire floor complaining as soon as I got in from my run."

Aeon edged out of the door as the larger girl moved into the common area. Dressed in a faded pair of gray shorts and a tank top, Barrier looked impressively green and annoyed. 

Stasis blinked owlishly as the room light came on. "We weren't doing nothing, officer?"

"Sorry, B. Did we have the sound up too loud?" That was Erika.

"Loud enough to have everybody else on this floor pounding on my door because they're all too chickenshit to come and say something. Curfew's in an hour you guys, start breaking it up."

"C'mon Ranger, have a heart! Kali's over and we're watching movies. We still got Nemo to go."

"What, Kalibear is here?"

"Hi, Barrier, I sure am!" Kali wiggled her way out of the tangle of legs and went to give the RA a hug. "It's great to see you! Merry Christmas!" 

"Well, holy shit. Good to see you too! How's the Tower treating you?" Barrier's voice was still doing an impressive job of sounding like gravel, but at least it sounded like suddenly happy gravel.

"Great! He doesn't make me eat his cooking and I don't have to complain about it. I'm really sorry if we were loud. That was Stasis, she keeps yelling at the screen."

"Heyla, he was gonna mess it up! I had to tell him what to do." 

"Yeah, figured it would have to be Mother." Stasis tried to look hurt. "Alright, if you can keep it down, Kali can stay past curfew." 

"Thanks Barrier, you're the best!"

"Three conditions," said the resident advisor for the floor. "One, I'll take a shot of what's in the bottle. Two, no more complaints, got it? You're all quiet as church mice on Sunday." Everybody nodded vigorously. "Three, I'm going to go take a shower. When I get back, I expect somebody to make room for me so I can catch up with the Kali."

"Aw c'mon Ranger, you'll smell like wet troll!"

Barrier looked over. "Better hope I don't sit next to you then." Erika was the one to serve the shot in a dixie cup. Barrier smacked her lips. "Now that's what I'm talking about." With a wave the field hockey captain was gone. Stasis looked around and ran a hand up the back of her neck.

"We're gonna have to rethink the seating arrangements, guys. I wasn't kidding about the wet troll smell."

"Stas! That's mean."

"Hey, you thought that the Eau de Guy in the other quad was bad? Trust me on this." She concentrated on getting to her feet. "Let's figure it out now."

_____________

 

When the fish movie finally wound down, it was late. After a round of sleepy, happy goodbyes, including Kali and Stasis bumping noggins together, Barrier left to walk Kali to the bus, the one supporting the slightly tipsy other. Stasis helped Aeon pull the beds back apart again. 

"Oh, that was wonderful," said Angelique, yawning. "But I totally gotta crash now. Kali is so great."

"Yeh, she's awesome." Stasis scooped up the discarded dixie cups and managed to peg most of them in the wastebasket. The fact that it was less than two feet away might have helped with her aim. "I'm glad she came over, she's been talking about it forever."

"Yeah, it was fun but I have something I need to do something for awhile." Aeon was surprisingly shrugging on her coat. Erika looked at Stasis who just looked back, clueless. "Cover for me?"

"Uh, sure?" But Aeon was already halfway out into the hallway, obviously trying to take advantage of Barrier's distraction to sneak out. Stasis jerked her finger at the closing door. "Any idea what that was about?"

Erika shrugged. "No idea. If anybody asks me, I never know where any of you guys are."

"Well,  _ I'm _ going to be sleeping. That stuff in the bottle is making me all woozy. Goodnight you guys, we really need to do this again." Angel managed to get out of her pants after a couple of attempts, climbing into bed in her tshirt and underwear. About four seconds later, she was a lump in the semi-darkness. 

"You crashing too, Snowflake?"

She thought about it and realized with a small sense of surprise that she didn't really feel like it. She shook her head and then asked. "No. Why?"

"Feel like watching another movie?"

There was fifteen minutes of amicable arguing over the small selection possible but they eventually settled on something they could both live with. Stas thumbed the volume to barely hearable in deference to the mumbling roomie, automatically making room as Erika came back from slipping the disc in. The other girl hesitated imperceptibly but then took the seat, propping herself up by the headboard. Stasis went for the stomach down position, snagging a pillow.

When she fell asleep she couldn't have said. Somewhere after the kiss but before the final fight anyways. When Stasis woke up again, it was later than it had been and the movie was stuck on the final music and line of credit. She peered blearily at the screen. "Oh, man," she mumbled. "I missed the best part." She rolled over.

Erika was half lighted by the screen, her eyes unreadable. The now empty bottle was cradled in her arms.

"I'm leaving school," she said simply.

  
  



	49. It Don't Matter Nohow

"Hey. Heyla, Jai." 

_ Say it, say it now, you've practised this in your head a thousand times. Tell him you came down to see what he's doing, couldn't stay away, no, don't say that part, just tell him you were passing by and hey, fancy that, he's here and maybe he wants to do something, go hang out, go for a coffee, there has to be someplace open around here where we can sit and talk like always, like we used to, I'd forgotten how dark his eyes are, like drowning... _

"Ah gyul, hello. I was jus' leavin' de party bein' dat ev'ryone got all quiet like." 

_ Just leaving? Oh, he's going, he's leaving and I'm too late just like always, he probably thinks I'm chasing him and I'm not, I was going to my quad or at least that's what I told Nova and I meant it, only I ended up here by the library and I didn't mean it really, it just happened _ oh sure Stasis, you just happened to walk right by the library when you knew he was in there and I'm not buying it for a minute and I bet you neither is he _ and ayuh, he looks so handsome with that half smile and you know if you step just that little bit closer you're going to be able to tell what soap he used, if you reach you can touch his face only you'd better not do that, keep your hands in your pockets... _

"Oh? I was just passing by, I'm on my way to go to sleep, heyla. Didn't know you were here."

_ Holy, why did I say that? You're not going to sleep even though that's what you told Nova, why else are you here anyways but the fact that you heard his voice on the comm, because he didn't sound upset or mad at all, just saying hello, maybe even that he was teasing you some and maybe that means he does want to see you, maybe he wouldn't mind if you came by and said hello back and maybe ask if he wants to hang out, nothing scary, just be together for awhile. Just say it, it'll be okay, all he can say is no and then you can say well, it doesn't matter because you were tired anyways although maybe he'll say yes and Founders is too far away and its cold outside but it doesn't bother me any and I'm sure we can find something close, this is Paragon, not some stick backwoods town... _

"Gon' tuh sleep? Well, alright den, mebbe I see yuh latuh. G'night." 

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. Goodnight, Jai."

__________

What can she do then but leave? What else can she do but swallow all the words that never made it to her lips and do what she said she was going to do, go to her quad, throw herself across the dark bed, bury her face in the pillow. 

It kills her that he sounded like it didn't matter at all.


	50. Colds and Cookies

The pounding in her head just wouldn't go away, no matter how hard she pulled the pillow over her ears.

In the thumping darkness she groaned under her breath. Bad enough she'd picked up a cold but did the entire floor have to pick today to hammer stuff into the walls too? She'd chased off Erika earlier but the rest of the dorm was proving to be a tougher sell. Her entire face felt like it wanted to slide off from sinus pressure. She tried to breathe as shallowly as possible through the little hole she'd left to the outside world. 

"Sta-sis..." 

She breathed some more. Colds sucked. Colds really really sucked. They should be outlawed, she decided. When she got better she'd take up a petition. Everybody would sign it, she'd make sure. 

"Staaaaa-sis. I know you're in there. I have something for you." 

Huh? She tried to figure out if it was worth crawling out to find out what was going on. Before she could make up her mind the pillow was removed uncermoniously. She grabbed after it, way too slow. She squinted up and groaned out loud this time, confronted by the smiling, way too cheerful face of Nova Daystar. She hadn't even heard him knock. 

"Go away. I don't like you anymore." 

The grin only got bigger. "I heard you weren't feeling well. You're not feeling well, are you?"

"No. Pillow. Now." She made another grab for it but he held it out of reach. 

"I brought you something to make you feel better. It'll help, I promise." 

She tried glaring but ended up just squinting her eyes harder, causing the headache to try to crawl out her ears in retaliation. "That's what you always say when you come up with these things. They never do, dayball, trust me." 

He affected a hurt look but she was too sick to notice that it reached his eyes as well. She buried her face in the bed again, giving up on the pillow. After a minute she felt his weight settle gingerly next to her. A moment later a tentative hand rubbed between her shoulderblades. She felt lousy enough that she didn't even protest. 

He was silent for what seemed like a long time. With her eyes closed, she pretended she was anybody else, preferentially somebody without a cold. She was right in the middle of trying to figure out if she wanted to be Errol Flynn or Indiana Jones when Nova spoke again. 

"How's that?"

Weirdly enough, as soon as he said it, she realised did feel better. Not ready to jump off the bed and take on a charging lion maybe, but definitely better enough that she didn't feel like chopping her own head off. She looked up. "Did you just whammy me?" She tried to sound indignant. Instead it came out sort of hopeful. 

"Only a little bit! Don't be mad." 

She sniffled and started to cough. "...not mad. I feel too lousy to manage mad." 

The relief in Nova's voice was obvious. "Great. I brought you something when I heard you were sick." He reached down out of sight and his hand reappeared with a plate, saran wrapped so much she couldn't see what was on it. "This ought to help. I got the recipe from the internet."

"R... recipe? Oh holy, Nova. No. I think you're great but I don't want to die of internal poisoning trying to avoid a dumb cold." 

"Sta-sis!" She winced and his voice lowered. "Stas, really. It's supposed to help you feel better."

This time she looked at him, really looked. His blue eyes were honest but wary, like he really did expect she'd snap his head off for bringing her a present. She groaned. She'd seen that look on Jai too and she never wanted to see it again for the rest of her life. She cursed herself and struggled to a sitting position. She blinked, eyes wanting to water with pressure. "Sorry, Nova. Stupid cold. Makes me  _ real _ grumpy." It was half an apology but his answering smile was enough to make it worth it. He shifted, spreading his wings a little to make more room. "What is it?"

"Cookies!" With a flourish he uncovered the plate and she was left staring at a mound of orange shapes. Many cute little orange shapes. She poked one gently. "I made them with a whole bag of oranges. I even put the zest in. There's a lot of vitamin C in oranges, you know." 

"I know." She laughed a little and immediately regretted it. They were so violently orange they looked like refugees from last Halloween. She picked one up and found herself admiring a perfectly pointed star. "This must have taken forever." Sitting up might not have been a great idea. She sniffled as softly as possible, trying to sound like a lady and not a whuffling bear. 

"Nah, not really. Go on, try it." He lowered his head and scooted a bit closer, the warmth impacting her side. His wings stayed scrupulously out of the way. She nibbled a star point cautiously. 

"Hey, s'pretty good!" The surprise in her voice was obvious. He laughed. 

"I told you. I got the recipe from the internet. Only I added a lot more orange juice and that meant more flour and then I had to adjust the rising agent...." Her eyes started to cross and she sniffled again, losing the rest of it. She nibbled the cookie and nodded some more. Before she knew it, it was gone and she'd picked up another. 

She eyed the remaining mound on the plate. He'd baked enough for five of her. She thought as fast as possible, which wasn't all that fast in her condition. "Heyla. You should have some too," she blurted out.

"Huh? They're for you so you get better faster." 

"You're right here. You could get sick too because I'm full of germs. So you should have a bunch of orange juice too. You know, just in case." She sniffled to make her point and hastily swallowed a sneeze. Nothing more attractive than sneezing over somebody. She ended up giving herself a coughing fit instead for the trouble. This time her eyes did water and she scrubbed them.

"Are you sure? I made them for you, and I don't know how much... " He trailed off as she interrupted.

"Trust me, dayball. You baked an entire Florida harvest into these things. I'm sure I won't miss a couple."

"If you're sure." 

"Totally." She took a bite of her new cookie and chewed. They really were pretty good. His smile at her expression spread across his whole face and she felt better just for that. It was like the entire room got a little lighter just for having him in it. 

"Okay. If it makes you feel better, I'll have a cookie too. I sure don't want to get sick either." He made a face at her and she laughed and regretted that too, but not as much as before.

It felt nice to help him pick out the cookie with the most obvious amount of orange in it. They spread out the choices on the bedspread and while her face still felt like it was falling off, it felt good to have company. 

It was awfully nice to have somebody care.

  
  



	51. Carnival

It was like walking into a mirror.

She looked around, blinking in the semi-gloom cast by the single lamp. There was Aeon's bed, Angel's, Erika's. Every one of them empty just like hers. There was nothing out of place but it was all out of phase at the same time. It was like she'd wandered into a quad that just happened to look like the one she'd left twelve hours ago. The deju vu was intense enough to be dizzying.

The white wings of battered wire and fabric trailed from one fisted hand. It had been amazingly difficult to climb the stairs, navigating the walkway by memory more than sight. It felt... she felt like the world was shaking. Maybe it was. Music trembled along every muscle.

She'd lost the lower part of the mask somewhere in the last couple hours and she couldn't even remember exactly when. She'd kissed Erika, so some time before that. Kissed Erika? She peeled off the eye mask, pulling off the white wig at the same time. Her head felt a thousand pounds lighter if no more clear.

Stasis stumbled toward the bathroom.

She didn't want to look at the reflection in case she didn't recognize anything there either so she kept her head down, running cold, blessed water into the white sink to scrub the cloying paint away. Her fingers were sticky and didn't want to come clean. Smudges of green, rust dappled her hands. A vision of her fingers on brown skin surfaced, dark eyes and joy. Andrew's face as he'd tried to keep up. Nova's laugh fading in and out. She stripped it all off, shedding memory, balancing on one foot to peel away the clinging tights. She remembered to drop the smeared towels in the hamper.

Walking back into the quad again, everything was still shivering with distortion. She was so tired that she was actually cold, her naked skin tingling. The wings were crouched on her bed, glimmering randomly as if alive.

She moved then to trail a hand over the sleek curves, admiring the cloth that had started to fray away from the frame. The dents and warps from the hours of abuse.

Hours when she'd been somebody else, something else. Not Stasis that everybody knew, not even Tara who almost nobody knew. She'd been madness, all right. Music and bacchanal and carnival like something solid enough to eat, sweet enough to drink down like honey.

Whoever she'd been had kissed Erika somewhere in the fury, a reckless, impulsive urge. Warm lips and startled breath under hers. Surprise but no anger. No denial in that heartbeat instant before the dancing had pulled them apart again.

And whoever she'd been had seen Jai later with dark fingers linked into Erika's, leading her away from the edge of the crowd.

Dancing still walked along her bones, the memory of sound beat against her heart, timpani against her ears. She picked up the illusion wings, fragile and damaged and still beautiful for all that they were coming apart now. They'd held together long enough.

She hung them on the equally damaged armor on the wall, hooking the pack into the wicked hole splitting the breastbone. They glittered there like some weird sort of butterfly.

She crawled into bed and closed her eyes.

Tomorrow she'd be Stasis. Tomorrow she'd forget all the things she felt.

Music. Pain from hours of sweat soaked effort. She could feel everything shutting down relentlessly.

The kiss, the returning, secret pressure. Jai dancing as if nothing terrible could ever happen.

As if the last six months had never happened.

Jai and Erika.

She dreamed of madness and silver dust fell from her fingers into a sea made of pure salt.


	52. The Brothers Nova

"Attention: Biological Form."

"....Oh,  _ man! _ " 

Stasis "Almost There" Kiss, dead last in every hundred meter dash event since the eighth grade, put on an extra burst of speed and prayed for the miracle that somebody out there sure owed her. Skidding around the corner, she sprinted to the next building, pistoning her arms and probably trailing panicked ice crystals like breadcumbs. 

If she could just break line of sight, maybe she could lose the now-alerted patrol behind her before they called in a half hundred of their buddies. The Rikti were a worldwide menace, sure, no question. Still, one thing she'd realised during another situation eerily similar to this one was -- that the guys walking perimeter detail didn't always feel like chasing if it was too much effort. 

She hurdled over a couple of boxes and charged around another corner, figuring zig zag was as good a direction as any. As plans went it certainly wasn't one of her worst. Then again, she'd definitely had plans go better than this. 

"Query: Intrusion?" 

"....Oh,  _ man! _ " 

She windmilled her arms, nearly on top of the four Rikti soldiers clustered against the wall. Two were kneeling, doing something she couldn't quite make out. There were small green chips on the ground. One was looking right at her, weird alien face doing weird alien face things. The fourth was already groping for the wicked looking rifle strapped to his back.

"Confirmed: Unauthorised Biological Form." 

Well, just what can you do when you charge around a corner right into yet another cluster of guards, interrupting what looks suspiciously like a craps game? 

"Tag, you're it!" she shouted. And pelted back the other way. 

Thirty seconds later she heard the muted wail of the general alarm going up and the ominous sound of booted alien feet starting to converge on her frantically changing position. It just wasn't fair. This was supposed to be another game of Touch-Me-Not with the security cameras, not Hide And Seek. The game had rules. It had points. It even had a bonus round if she could get all the cameras on the first pass without being caught. And just to rub salt in the wound she'd only managed five this time, which was her worst score in weeks. 

Stasis dug down deep and ran for it.

___________ 

This time she couldn't dodge in time. The energy pulse hit with sickening impact, chewing ravenously through the stasis field, trying to reach the dead center which was her. She grabbed it, ate it, forced it to die but the heartbeat of time had two more soldiers in her face and she fell back desperately, literally collapsing. A blade sliced air above her head.

She scrambled to the side as cold snapped down like a breakwave, slowing flesh. 

Three steps out of reach and charged, she whirled and brought both hands down. Nobody close enough to hit but the shock tore through the air, scattering bodies. Through the shifting kaleidoscope of vision, she half shouted a frustrated word only Mis used. Why were there always too goddamned many? Four, six, ten. Too many. Fourteen.

She whirled and ran farther into the complex. Break sight. Hide. Find a way to get out. Just three minutes out of sight and she could figure this out. Just two minutes. 

Something winked under a halogen and she threw out a hand as she ran and yanked savagely. The metal eye frosted, blind as another light shattered. Darkness would help. 

Out of the corner of her eye, shadow fluttered. She dodged, side stitched, spinning on a back heel to try and watch behind and the sky at the same time. Feathers. A vibrating frame with outstretched arms, alighting. Flesh gleamed, curved tracings sketching dull mysteries across collarbone, shoulders. 

"Nova!" she shouted. "Nova! Dayball,  _ no! _ " 

She almost felt the energy pulses behind her as rifles fired, seeking the new target. The space between her shoulders tingled, fear exploding under her tongue like the taste of wood. No, dayball, no, you stupid idiot, you'll get  _ hurt. _

She was suddenly just there, turning, spreading her arms wide as fingers reached. Visible motion for the invisible current. Energy to her, energy for her. She stripped it, built it, tried to return it. Frost hammered a ghost pattern onto her skin. Too many but she could do this forever. She could do this forever. She would do this forever.

Wings spread behind her as he touched down. She felt them like a benediction or curse. 

Stasis laughed. Swallowed ice like a pure color -- and let it all go. 

Running wasn't her strong suit anyways.

___________ 

He was faster, smoother somehow. She leapt and took one to the ground just as a blast tore through the air where she'd been, nailing a blade and shattering it. She grabbed both shoulders of the creature underneath her and cold tore though bone and sinew. No need for more, no time. She was up and he was right there, wings oddly shadowed in the shifting light, his foot braced against hers. He went low, hands to the ground and she thrust out a fist into the dead space. Stripped potential so fast that the air screamed as the ice lance formed, spearing a soldier against a wall. She blinked, crystal vision fracturing. 

"Let's get out of here." His voice was flat with effort. 

"No way, we can do it! Nova, get down!" She shoved, not even enough time to worry about the state of her hands. He said a word she'd never heard before and she had a second to wonder if he'd been hanging around Mis too. Laughing with excitement, she blew a kiss to the gunner taking aim across the hangar. Ice clung like a sudden lover to his torso and the alien stumbled, falling, disappearing. 

"We can do it! Fight, Nova! Come on!" She turned away, tensing to spring for the next group. 

"You're as stubborn as he is." Behind her she felt him stand to his full height, felt the wings curve out with a snap. "I don't really have time for this right now." 

Something terrible and hot was breathing on her neck. She felt it through the stasis like a half second of presentiment. Flashover. 

Then one of the soldiers under her gaze simply... wasn't. Roiling energy like a dark whirlpool ripped into existance, greedy as a child. A second. A third. He was standing so close behind her she felt muscle flexing. Vortex energy cascaded down her skin like a horrible dream caress. A fourth.

What? 

She twisted, hands spread. She looked up with eyelashes rimmed in frost. 

Dark eyes, darker hair. Unmarred skin. A star burned on his brow, off center. Nova? Not Nova.

The face was the same... oh, but the smile was nothing she'd seen before.

"Hello, Stasis." 

When he reached out, she didn't know what to do. It was Nova. 

Mirror Nova. 

The thought held her paralyzed even as warm fingers burned through the cold. Long enough that darkness rose, wrapped them up and she just watched his face. And then she couldn't see to see.


	53. Get Rich Quick Schemes

_ Will you fight for your friend? _

Stasis eyed the recently acquired painting which was hanging like a crucifix between the two beds. Elvis Presley, King of Rock and Roll, sang soulfully into his velvet microphone, his slicked back hair blending into the dark fabric with a definite flair. She felt like he was watching her out of the corner of his eye, staring at her, somehow aware of his impending fate. She told herself not to be silly. It was a painting, not a person. There was no reason to feel guilty.

Still, she couldn't meet his gaze and found herself instead looking at her quadmate. "Do you think this'll actually work?" she asked.

"Like I know," was the prompt reply. "This was your idea, remember?"

"Heyla, it was ... okay, you're right. It was my idea." The blonde chewed her lip and finally shrugged. "C'mon, it'll be fun. It's an experiment in the name of science! Besides, I still think we could make money off this." 

Erika made a noise somewhere between a snort and a laugh, her hands busy tightening the leather thong around her ponytail. "Sure thing, Snowflake. Right after disco and roller skates stage a comeback. Still, it's not like there's anything else exciting going on this afternoon. You ready to give this a try?"

Stasis glanced around the quad. They'd draped things over the damageables; blankets over desks, a sheet over Angel's big mirror, the bathroom door shut tight. She'd already eaten all the left over cookies so they wouldn't, you know, get mold on them after this. 

"Ayuh, ready on. I guess I go first, huh?" 

Erika waved an airy hand, as if granting permission from the throne. "Anytime this century." 

Stasis grinned at the tone. They'd done this by accident only about a thousand times now, rampant teenage hormones and arguments turning their quad into an early morning sauna. Thing was, could they do it on purpose? Stasis stepped a little closer to Erika, trying not to feel weird about it. Some of her dreams had been a little strange lately.

It wasn't so much a matter of willing the ice to be, as simply letting go of the involuntary control that kept it from forming. A cool mist began to play over her skin, the water in the air starting to freeze as her body took away the energy lattice that held it suspended. She watched fascinated as Erika called fire, heat beginning to rise in subtle waves. Sure enough, in about three minutes they had a respectable fogbank going on. Stasis grinned.

"Maybe we both shoulda been water dryads, yeh?"

As soon as she said it, she felt stupid. Why did her mouth always  _ do _ that? Just ramble on without checking in with her brain first? The last thing she wanted to do was remind Erika of Carnival, which led to places she really didn't want to think about.

"Get real Stasis, neither of us look good in blue." The brunette looked up at the painting, her crossed arms shimmering with vague distortion. "I'm not seeing anything happening. Maybe we should stand closer."

"Sure thing, boss." Stasis shuffled forward, still trying not to meet the poor guy's eyes. She let the cold ramp up a little, felt Erika raise her own efforts to match. It was kind of neat, trying to be a tandem event. Moisture finally started to bead on the black velvet, beginning to pool in the corners of the frame. They both watched, Erika possibly interested despite herself. Still, after about ten minutes of waiting, nothing seemed to be happening. Stasis sighed.

"It's not working," she grumbled. She reached out and ran a finger down the wet paint. "No-thing. It's not smearing at all." She held up her fingertip to the other girl, as if to prove the point.

Erika shrugged. "Maybe the stuff isn't water soluble." She frowned at the painting as if it had utterly failed to meet expectations which, perhaps, it had.

"Maybe. But man, I was sure this would work! Elvis Presley meets Dali, just how cool would that be?"

"Very cool. But as an experiment, this is a bust. We should knock it off before the walls start to peel."

Stasis sighed and stepped back, locking everything down automatically. The dampness of the air stuck to her lips and she licked them. "Well, shoot. Another awesome idea, dead before it's time. I'm telling you, somebody woulda paid money for a melted Elvis."

Erika flipped her ponytail over her shoulder. "Sorry, Snowflake. Just wasn't meant to be." The brunette looked around the quad and her eyes got a little wide. "But... we should probably get the windows open now."

Stasis twisted on one heel and blanched. "Holy... yeah. Before Aeon gets back and kills us."

_ Will you fight for your friend?  _

_ Yes. _


	54. On Schedule

"Um... large coffee please. With uh.. a shot of vanilla." 

Stasis rattled the change in her pocket, wondering if she could afford to upgrade to something with foam on top. Probably not. It was pushing the end of the month and her allowance from Services was squeaky thin by this point. She'd treat herself to something nice next week, honest. With double foam and two shots of something awesomely full of sugar. She squinted at the board, wondering if there was anything else up there that would be better, if no more expensive.

"That's mild roast, right? And vanilla?" came the automatic reply as the older woman reached for the cardboard cup. 

"Yes, please." She started to count out the silver coins on the counter. 

"It's nice to see you, you know. You were always in here on Fridays, right on the dot of three thirty. I was starting to be worried about you." The woman smiled as if sharing a personal revelation. "Everything okay?" 

"Oh yeah. Things are fine. Thanks for asking. I just ... I mean... I didn't know I was on a schedule," she finished lamely. The clerk laughed, putting the steaming black liquid under the pump, expertly dispensing one full measure of the flavoring.

"Dear, everybody has a schedule when it comes to coffee. I notice when people do something different because you can almost set your clock by seeing certain faces. I know when I see you, for example, that means my shift is nearly over." The woman's dark eyes crinkled. "That'll be $2.46, please." 

Stasis sorted faster, laughing a little herself. One, two, two twenty-five. 

"Is your friend coming today? He was the straight up hot chocolate, wasn't he? No extras." 

Stasis blinked. She felt the absence suddenly at her shoulder, a presence she hadn't actually realised she'd gotten used to until it stopped appearing. She smiled through it, accepting the coffee, pushing the money across the smooth laminate. 

"He had other things to do. I think his brother's in town." Wry observation, easier definitely to summon up the memory of the mirror who had just been annoyed with her and wanting answers. Annoyed and angry was something she knew how to deal with, even if it just came down to yelling instead of thinking. Better than watching somebody hurt, her trying not to see it, him trying not to show it. At least her track record was improving because they were still friends, still talking. That had to count for something, right? Still friends. "I'll tell him you missed him knocking stuff over though."

The woman punched the register, making change swiftly in the tray. Her lips pursed. "Heavens, no. Although it was nice of him to wait by the door after the first time." 

Stasis smiled stiffly, stuffing the nickels and pennies back in her pocket. "Yeah, that's the dayball. Thanks for the coffee." 

But the lady was already turning to the next customer, her voice digging through the background hum. Stasis shuffled over to the bar counter and reached for the cream jug. 

She poured a very, very generous amount. If she couldn't afford latte, she could do the next best thing. 

Stasis blew the hair out of her eyes and capped the coffee, glancing at the clock on the wall. Just enough time to get back to the campus and Mr. Asumio's last class. 

If she was on a schedule, it wouldn't do to be late.

  
  



	55. Return to Sender

Monday morning.

She puts her forehead against the cool metal of the locker and watches her fingers spin the wheel. Autopilot finds the numbers even though if asked she'd never remember the combination. It opens with a jerk and she hooks the curve of it into the holed tab, feels the rough metal tongue pressing into flesh as she opens the door. She is thinking of math and the homework that is, this time at least, mostly finished.

A piece of paper flutters to the ground, startlingly white. She bends without thinking, opens it to reveal the black adornment. It is too early in the morning to remember that all things have consequence.

She reads then the words that struggle for dignity. She reads the things that she's struggled with herself, hurt for. Her ghost eyes scan the words a second time, a third. Something tightens with fright and breath exhales with prickling frost.

"What you got there, Stas?"

Her first, best reaction. Hide, slide away, feel nothing until what's important can be pinned down and vivisected. The air warms then with a near audible click and the autopilot sticks a grin on her face. She folds the expression of pain back along the crease and tucks it into the textbook. She reaches for the matching binder. 

"Nothing exciting. Cheer squad's trying to rope me in again."

She kicks the bottom plate of the locker as she closes it, out of habit. 

She is not sure, even now, whether she hurts more for him or for herself.


	56. Brain Made of Blonde

_ Dear Nova; _

That's as far as she's managed to get in half an hour of staring at the sheet, rocking the chair back on two legs like a metronome. Just the name which doesn't help in the slightest, doesn't give her anything to work from except the welter of feeling which she just can't figure out how to sort into words, let alone words that will help. 

_ Dear Nova, I have no idea so please don't ask alright, please forget I ever existed, pretend you never knew me and I never knew you and maybe it'll all be okay again.  _

Now that's honest, something she'd probably just blurt if she'd been cornered. Then of course he'd be hurt and probably angry because it might be honest but it's nothing close to a real answer. Who the hell starts these damn things with "Dear" anyways? He's not her business partner. 

_ Dayball, of course I haven't forgotten the last six months which is why I'm so busy avoiding you because I have no idea how to say anything that doesn't start with I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I don't know what I was thinking and I panicked and I'd rather just make it your fault anyways.  _

She grimaces and thumps the chair back down to the ground. Now that's just too much damned honesty. 

_ Nova, I'm sorry that I hurt you because the reason is you made me feel like I'm still special but it's the wrong kind of special and it makes me feel bad afterwards, like I'm hurting both of us with what you feel because I don't feel it exactly back and it's messed up, I know and I told you being human wasn't easy.  _

Okay, that really wasn't any better. He'd be confused and dizzy after trying to make sense of that and she was pretty sure she was just confusing herself too. Maybe honesty wasn't the way to go with this. Maybe she should just make something up that sounded good and he'd have the answer he wanted and she'd feel guilty, sure, but then maybe he'd never write another stupid letter like this and she'd be off the hook.

_ Hey dayball, yeah, well, you know that thing I told you was never going to happen? It's never....  _

_ Nova, would you just give it up? Don't say you want to know what's going on because we never even got started and if you'd just freaking....  _

"Stasis, it's a good thing I know you've got a brain made of blonde. Otherwise I'd be pretty pissed at you for making me stand around thinking you were actually going to remember to show." 

She swivels and it's Jester with her head in the door, morose makeup brightened this evening by the addition of a blood red tear on her cheek. She groans.

"Ayuh! Holy, is that  _ tonight _ ?" 

"No, I'm here just to fuck you over." The bizarrely striped stocking cap bobs on her friend's head. "No shit, it's tonight. Get moving, wouldja? If we jet, we'll still make it." 

She forgets everything else in the scramble for her boots, grabbing money to stuff into the front of her jeans. She decides suddenly that she isn't taking the jacket she doesn't actually need. So it's going to be cold and people will wonder if she's a freak. Tonight she doesn't much care, let them stare. She's at the door in three long strides, Jester already disappearing in front of her. 

On the desk the letter waits with its incriminating, helpless beginning. 

\----------

It's late when she gets back. 

She sits down at the desk and stares at the handwriting before finally picking up the pen again.

_ Dear Nova;  _

_ We're friends.  _

_ That's all that really matters. You have to move forward because I can't. _

_ \- Stasis _

She wonders if she'll have the courage to put it in his locker in the morning.


	57. There's A Lyric For Everything

_ Nothing like a funeral to make you feel alive. _

The lyric floated through her mind. It seemed kind of appropriate, even if it wasn't as if Erika had actually died. 

_ She might as well have. _ Stasis folded her arms across her chest, not caring if that made her look like she was trying to hold something in. She stared out the window because her other choice was to stare instead at the empty, mocking corner of the quad where her roommate had been. The bed was stripped, the mattress bare, the walls blank without the cut out magazine articles pinned up, the picture of the pop star that Erika had drawn a questionable addition onto with a black marker. Reft and bereft, waiting for a new occupant. Just like before. Just like always. 

Stasis felt her shoulders start to hunch and defiantly threw them back, shoving her hands in her pockets instead. It didn't matter. So what if Erika had finished all her courses, had worked hard to earn the right to move on, move away? Leaving her behind. That's what people did. Left and didn't look back. 

The corner of her mobile mouth hooked in a savage grin. Each time, it hurt. Each time she told herself she'd never care again, never get interested again, remind herself over and over that she couldn't count on anybody but herself. Each time, sucked in and laid out to dry. 

Jai. Another hurt that wouldn't, couldn't heal, wouldn't decently scar over and become just something to talk about at a party like an adventure that had taken a wrong turn. She took the long way to science class every day now so she wouldn't pass him, wouldn't have any opportunity to see his profile, see the flash of a white smile meant now for somebody, something else. 

More than anything, she wanted to just smile back and feel nothing. Not yet. Not yet, not yet. But maybe soon. 

And there'd been Nova, who'd spent so much time wearing down her fears, patient and coaxing. So careful to work around the damage. She'd been so grateful that she'd half fallen in love for that alone, for the warmth and the shy look in his eyes. She couldn't get away from him at all now, turning corners into conversations where girls gleefully traded stories, innuendo, salacious rumor. She'd had to retreat so far from the pain of her betrayal that she'd all but stopped talking. Smile and murmur, walk away, that's what she did, what she should have always done. 

And now Erika. 

It should have hurt the least of all. Her aloof, incomprehensible, frustrating quadmate. Instead she felt sick with the emptiness. 

_ Te veo _ . 

For a moment she felt the cold touch of metal at her back, the mortal sound of her own angry words in her mouth, the dark acceptance in hidden eyes. A fourth stake, pinning her entirely to the altar for the sacrifice called friendship. 

No. No more. She was done with it. She didn't care who moved into her quad, took over Erika's place, where Lycia had once been, where Kris had once stood and argued with her, trying to make her understand that some things were impossible. She should have listened then. Better late than never, wasn't that the saying? 

Stasis turned on the heel of her boot and looked at the empty bed. Pale hair fell into her eyes and she raked it back. 

She had to get out of here. If she stood here any longer, something bad was going to happen. 

Something very. Very. Bad. 

_ Nothing like a trail of blood to find your way back home. _

There was a lyric for everything these days. That one at least she knew exactly how to deal with.


	58. Initiation

There's a certain satisfaction to the taste of blood in your mouth.

I can feel splinters trying to dig in between my shoulders, the slats of the crate I'm using for cover hard against my back. Lick my teeth again, probing cautiously because I'm pretty sure at least one is loose. The pain merges with everything else, the dull throb from temple to chin where I didn't, couldn't get out of the way fast enough.

If I had time, I'd care. As it is I'm just happy I can still see out of that eye because having a blind side right now would really suck.

It's not polite to spit so I swallow instead, warm and salt and copper. It's strangely comforting, probably because it's so familiar. Wonder idly what Conrads would make of that although now that I think about it, probably nothing. I bet he's heard it all at least twice by now. Liking the taste of your own blood probably wouldn't even make him twitch.

Stare down between my legs through the catwalk, trying to find another wind somewhere. Four more points. That's all I need for this round. Four more lousy points if I can just hold it together, find the line. Risk the distraction as I rake the hair off my face, trying to dislodge the sweat soaked mess. My thighs are trembling from the strain of the climb and the crouch I'm in.

My tongue touches the tooth again, nagging at it.

"Give it _up_ , Kiss! Kiss, kisekae!" The shout bounces up from the floor to strike like sparks off the metal rafters in this filthy, supposed to be abandoned warehouse. The sound crawls like spiders down the pale hair on my arms. "I've got you now! As soon as you move, as soon as you _breathe_ , I'm going to bury you eight feet down and _stomp_ your _ass_!"

I don't even have to look. He's so busy congratulating himself for actually cornering me this time, a shit kicking grin stretching the metal that takes up half his face. I can hear him stalking around on the floor. I can hear the rattle and slide of the things they've welded onto him, bolted down, replaced in their entirety. Where? Left? Close to the wall, I think. Something reverberates, metal on metal.

"Nothing to say? Come on, baby doll! Come to daddy and pucker up."

Whatever else they've done to him, the gloat in his voice is pure human, ripe with the anticipation of it. He probably has a hard on, thinking about smashing me under his hands. That's assuming they haven't grafted something else there instead.

Another bead of perspiration slips down and it's like a coy finger over the aching bruise on my face. He almost had me the last time. He had me the time before. He hasn't got me on this run yet and it's four for him, four for me and all I need is just one more lucky break. Just one more.

"Kise _kae_ ! Don't tell me I've got you _scared!_ "

Screw this.

"Scared? Of you?! You couldn't catch a dog with a crippled leg if it was tied _up!_ "

I can almost hear the intake of breath, the roar of reply.

Screw this all to hell and back.

I don't even make the decision because suddenly I'm up and moving. The pain of the abused muscles in my legs translates into vector, momentum, into the sound of ocean in my ears.

The target is forty feet away. Forty short feet away, that's all, snapshot memory from the desperate scramble that kept me in the game, that got me up where somebody without hands can't climb.

He had me pegged just a little bit wrong, a small mercy, a tiny gift that I'm not too proud to take. He's half turned so I can see the human line of his jaw framed through the curving metal looping around his shoulder. Race along the catwalk, spring to the girder that spans most of the roof.

I've covered nearly a third of the distance before he hears it, and me. The spin is weirdly graceful even as both arms rise. The incoherent shout is excited enough to punch a hole in my gut.

The discharge-tang of electricity arcs and the world is suddenly just a blue halo of afterimages. I manage maybe five more feet before I slip and the fall becomes a dive. Lash out with one hand to hold on, swing for just a second. Pray desperately and drop.

Fifteen feet, I'm nearly on top of the goal.

He's nearly on top of me.

Roll to the side as his knee smashes down into the concrete floor. The hiss of the chargers buried in the mass of his forearms sounds like popcorn. There’s ozone reek in the back of my throat, I'm so close. Roll again the other way, twisting as his fist comes down.

Up, get up. And I am, boots slick to the rough floor. The target of this game just stares dumbly at me as I launch myself. From the position of his shoulders, his hands are tied to the chair.

Four. Lousy. Points.

My fingers close around his throat just as another bolt of electricity spears me from behind. My hand convulses as everything spasms. This close there's no afterimage, just the hard lock of my jaw as everything sheets white. Something kicks me in the chest like a mule.

Finally come to sprawled on my back, staring at the spots in front of my eyes. His ugly face fills my vision as he leans over which isn't much of an improvement.

In a weird sort of lethargy I look to the side. My hand is still has the red ribbon, the stupid loopy bow they'd tied around the guy's neck frothing between my fingers. Oh, amen. Amen.

I can't help it. I'm grinning as as I look up, even with the tremble deep along my bones from the two shocks I took too damned close together. Grab the arm that reaches down, try and haul myself up. So what if it takes two attempts? Raise the fist with the ribbon.

"Four points! On the board, Gun, mark me down for four!"

"Kiss for four, advance to the next round!" Along the catwalk above there's some shoving at the rail, motion as money changes hands. A trio of Freaks, blue haired, green, yell at me but I can't hear whatever they're on about over the noise. Only one has the Excelsior patch wired in. I watch to make sure my score's recorded because damned if I'll get caught out with that a second time.

"I'm going to kick your ass."

He's more than a foot taller than I am, taller even with the metal spikes in an aggressive wreath.

"Yeah? You tried. Didn't work."

He shoves me hard between the shoulder blades, the residual charge in the metal like the first touch of a flechette, sweet and unexpected.

"Kick. Your. Ass. _Kisekae_."

Tug my tank top back down again, swiping a shaking hand across the front as if that's going to help with the dirt problem. Toss another grin over my shoulder as I start for the stairs because now it's my turn to watch.

"Not your doll. But feel free to dream about it."


End file.
